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WAVERLEY NOVELS. 



HOUSEHOLD EDITION. 



5oo if, Sir U)aif&y 
IVANHOE. 

L 



BO STON: 
TICKNOR AND F I E L I> S 



M DCCC LXVI. 



IVANHOE. 



IVANHOE; 
A ROJVIANCE. 



Now fitted the halter, now traversed the cart, 
And often took leaye, but seem'd loath to depart ! * 

Pbior. 



INTRODUCTION — (1830.) 

The Author of the Waverley Novels had hitherto 
proceeded in an unabated course of popularity, and 
might, in his peculiar district of literature, have been 
termed V Enfant Gate of success. It was plain, how- 
ever, that frequent publication must finally wear out the 
public favour, unless some mode could be devised to give 
an appearance of novelty to subsequent productions. 
Scottish manners, Scottish dialect, and Scottish charac- 
ters of note being those with which the author was most 
intimately and familiarly acquainted, were the ground- 
work upon which he had hitherto relied for giving effect 
to his narrative. It was, however, obvious, that this 
kind of interest must in the end occasion a degree of 

* The motto alludes to the Author returning to the stage repeatedly 
after having taken leave. 



6 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

sameness and repetition, if exclusively resorted to, and 
that the reader was likely at length to adopt the lan- 
guage of Edwin, in ParnelFs Tale : — 

" Reverse the spell," he cries, 

" And let it fairly now suffice, 
The gambol has been shewn." 

Nothing can be more dangerous for the fame of a pro- 
fessor of the fine arts than to permit (if he can possibly 
prevent it) the character of a mannerist to be attached to 
him, or that he should be supposed capable of success 
only in a particular and limited style. The public are, 
in general, very ready to adopt the opinion, that he who 
has pleased them in one peculiar mode of composition, is, 
by means of that very talenr, rendered incapable of ven- 
turing upon other subjects. The effect of this disinclina- 
tion, on the part of the public, towards the artificers of 
their pleasures, when they attempt to enlarge their means 
of amusing, may be seen in the censures usually passed 
by vulgar criticism upon actors or artists who venture to 
change the character of their efforts, that, in so doing, 
they may enlarge the scale of their art. 

There is some justice in this opinion, as there always 
is in such as attain general currency. It may often hap- 
pen on the stage, that an actor, by possessing in a pre- 
eminent degree the external qualities necessary to give 
effect to comedy, may be deprived of the right to aspire 
to tragic excellence ; and in painting or literary composi- 
tion, an artist or poet may be master exclusively of modes 
of thought, and powers of expression, which confine liim 
to a single course of subjects. But much more frequently 
the same capacity which carries a man to popularity in 
one department will obtain for him success in another, 
and that must be more particularly the case in literary 



INTRODUCTION TO IVANHOE. 7 

composition, than either in acting or painting, because 
the adventurer in that department is not impeded in his 
exertions by any peculiarity of features, or conformation 
of person, proper for particular parts, or, by any peculiar 
mechanical habits of using the pencil, limited to a par- 
ticular class of subjects. 

Whether this reasoning be correct or otherwise, the 
present author felt, that, in confining himself to subjects 
purely Scottish, he was not only likely to weary out the 
indulgence of his readers, but also greatly to limit his 
own power of affording them pleasure. In a highly 
polished country, where so much genius is monthly em- 
ployed in catering for public amusement, a fresh topic, 
such as he had himself had the happiness to light upon, 
is the untasted spring of the desert ; — 

Men bless their stars and call it luxury. 

But when men and horses, cattle, camels, and drome- 
daries, have poached the spring into mud, it becomes 
loathsome to those who at first drank of it with rapture ; 
and he who had the merit of discovering it, if he would 
preserve his reputation with the tribe, must display his 
talents by a fresh discovery of untasted fountains. 

If the author, who finds himself limited to a particular 
class of subjects, endeavours to sustain his reputation by 
striving to add a novelty of attraction to themes of the 
same character which have been formerly successful 
under his management, there are manifest reasons why, 
after a certain point, he is likely to fail. If the mine be 
not wrought out, the strength and capacity of the miner 
become necessarily exhausted. If he closely imitates the 
narratives which he has before rendered successful, he is 
doomed to " wonder that they please no more." If he 



8 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

Struggles to take a different view of the same class of 
subjects, he speedily discovers that what is obvious, 
graceful, and natural, has been exhausted ; and, in order 
to obtain the indispensable charm of novelty, he is forced 
upon caricature, and, to avoid being trite, must become 
extravagant. 

It is not, perhaps, necessary to enumerate so many 
reasons why the author of the Scottish Novels, as they 
were then exclusively termed, should be desirous to make 
an experiment on a subject purely English. It was his 
purpose, at the same time, to have rendered the experi- 
ment as complete as possible, by bringing the intended 
work before the pubUc as the effort of a new candidate 
for their favour, in order that no degree of prejudice, 
whether favourable or the reverse, might attach to it, as a 
new production of the Author of Waverley; but this 
intention was afterwards departed from, for reasons to be 
hereafter mentioned. 

The period of the narrative adopted was the reign of 
Richard L, not only as abounding with characters whose 
very names were sure to attract general attention, but as 
affording a striking contrast betwixt the Saxons, by whom 
the soil was cultivated, and the Normans, who still 
reigned in it as conquerors, reluctant to mix with the 
vanquished, or acknowledge themselves of the same 
stock. The idea of this contrast was taken from the 
ingenious and unfortunate Logan's tragedy of Runna- 
mede, in which, about the same period of history, the 
author had seen the Saxon and Norman barons opposed 
to each other on different sides of the stage. He does^ 
not recollect that there was any attempt to contrast the 
two races in their habits and sentiments ; and indeed it 
was obvious, that history was violated by introducing the 



INTRODUCTION TO IVANHOE. 9 

Saxons still existing as a high-minded and martial race 
of nobles. 

Thej did, however, survive as a people, and some of 
the ancient Saxon families possessed wealth and power, 
although they were exceptions to the humble condition of 
the race in general. It seemed to the author, that the 
existence of the two races in the same country, the van- 
quished distinguished by their plain, homely, blunt 
manners, and the free spirit infused by their ancient 
institutions and laws ; the victors, by the high spirit of 
military fame, personal adventure, and whatever could 
distinguish them as the Flower of Chivalry, might, inter- 
mixed with other characters belonging to the same time 
and country, interest the reader by the contrast, if the 
author should not fail on his part. 

Scotland, however, had been of late used so exclusively 
as the scene of what is called Historical Romance, that 
the preliminary letter of Mr. Laurence Templeton be- 
came in some measure necessary. To this, as to an 
Introduction, the reader is referred, as expressing the 
author's purpose and opinions in undertaking this species 
of composition, under the necessary reservation, that he 
is far from thinking he has attained the point at which he 
aimed. 

It is scarcely necessary to add, that there was no idea 
or wish to pass off the supposed Mr. Templeton as a real 
person. But a kind of continuation of the Tales of my 
Landlord had been recently attempted by a stranger, and 
it was supposed this Dedicatory Epistle might pass for 
some imitation of the same kind, and thus putting in- 
quirers upon a false scent, induce them to beheve they 
had before them the work of some new candidate for their 
Javour. 



10 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

After a considerable part of the work had been finished 
and printed, the Publishers, who pretended to discern in 
it a germ of popularity, remonstrated strenuously against 
its appearing as an absolutely anonymous production, and 
contended that it should have the advantage of being 
announced as by the Author of Waverley. The author 
did not make any obstinate opposition, for he began to be 
of opinion with Dr. Wheeler, in Miss Edge worth's excel- 
lent tale of " Manoeuvring," that "Trick upon Trick" 
might be too much for the patience of an indulgent public, 
and might be reasonably considered as trifling with their 
favour. 

The book, therefore, appeared as an avowed continua- 
tion of the Waverley Novels ; and it would be ungrateful 
not to acknowledge, that it met with the same favourable 
reception as its predecessors. 

Such annotations as may be useful to assist the reader 
in comprehending the characters of the Jew, the Templar, 
the Captain of the mercenaries, or Free Companions, as 
they were called, and others proper to the period, are 
added, but with a sparing hand, since sufficient informa- 
tion on these subjects is to be found in general history. 

An incident in the tale, which had the good fortune to 
fmd favour in the eyes of many readers, is more directly 
borrowed from the stores of old romance. I mean the 
meeting of the King with Friar Tuck at the cell of that 
buxom hermit. The general tone of the story belongs to 
all ranks and all countries, which emulate each other in 
describing the rambles of a disguised sovereign, who, 
going in search of information or amusement, into the 
lower ranks of life, meets with adventures diverting to 
the reader or hearer, from the contrast betwixt the 
monarch's outward appearance, and his real character. 



INTRODUCTION TO lYANHOE. 11 

The Eastern tale-teller has for his theme the disguised 
expeditions of Haroun Alraschid with his faithful atten- 
dants, Mesrour and Giafar, through the midnight streets 
of Bagdad ; and Scottish tradition dwells upon the similar 
exploits of James V., distinguished during such excur- 
sions by the travelling name of the Goodman of Ballen- 
geigh, as the Commander of the Faithful, when he 
desired to be incognito, was known by that of II Bon- 
docani. The French minstrels are not silent on so 
popular a theme. There must have been a Norman 
original of the Scottish metrical romance of Rauf Colziar, 
in which Charlemagne is introduced as the unknown 
guest of a charcoalman.* It seems to have been the 
original of other poems of the kind. 

In merry England there is no end of popular ballads 
on this theme. The poem of John the Reeve, or Steward, 
mentioned by Bishop Percy, in the Reliques of English 
Poetry ,t is said to have turned on such an incident ; and 
we have besides, the King and the Tanner of Tamworth, 
the King and the Miller of Mansfield, and others on the 
same topic. But the peculiar tale of this nature to which 
the author of Ivanhoe has to acknowledge an obligation, 
is more ancient by two centuries than any of these last 
mentioned. 

It was first communicated to the public in that curious 
record of ancient literature, which has been accumulated 
by the combined exertions of Sir Egerton Brydges and 
Mr. Hazlewood, in the periodical work entitled the 



* This ver}' curious poem, long a desideratum in Scottish literature, 
and given up as irrecoverably lost, was lately brought to light by the 
tesearches of Dr. Irving of the Advocates' Library, and has been 
reprinted by Mr. David Laing, Edinburgh. 

t Vol. ii. p. 167. 



12 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

British Bibliographer. From thence it has been trans- 
ferred by the Reverend Charles Henry Hartshorne, 
M.A., editor of a very curious volume, entitled " Ancient 
Metrical Tales, printed chiefly from original sources, 
1829." Mr. Hartshorne gives no other authority for tho 
present fragment, except the article in the Bibliographer, 
where it is entitled the Kyng and the Hermite. A short 
abstract of its contents will shew its similarity to the 
meeting of King Richard and Friar Tuck. 

King Edward (we are not told which among the 
monarchs of that name, but, from his temper and habits, 
we may suppose Edward IV.) sets forth with his court to 
a gallant hunting-match in Sherwood Forest, in which, as 
is not unusual for princes in romance, he falls in with a 
deer of extraordinary size and swiftness, and pursues it 
closely, till he has outstripped his whole retinue, tired out 
hounds and horse, and finds himself alone under the gloom 
of an extensive forest, upon which night is descending. 
Under the apprehensions natural to a situation so uncom- 
fortable, the king recollects that he has heard how poor 
men, when apprehensive of a bad night's lodging, pray to 
Saint Julian, who, in the Romish calendar, stands Quarter- 
Master- General to all forlorn travellers that render him 
due homage. Edward puts up his orisons accordingly, 
and by the guidance, doubtless, of the good Saint, reaches 
a small path, conducting him to a chapel in the forest, 
having a hermit's cell in its close vicinity. The King 
hears the reverend man, with a companion of his solitude, 
telling his beads within, and meekly requests of him 
quarters for the night. " I have no accommodation for 
such a lord as ye be," said the Hermit. " I live here in 
the wilderness upon roots and rinds, and may not receive 
into my dweUing even the poorest wretch that lives, 



INTRODUCTION TO IVANHOE. 13 

unless it were to save his life." The King inquires the 
way to the next town, and, understanding it is by a road 
which he cannot find without difficulty, even if he had 
day-light to befriend him, he declared, that with or with- 
out the Hermit's consent, he was determined to be his 
guest that nighf. He is admitted accordingly, not without 
a hint from the Eecluse, that were he himself out of his 
pi iestly weeds, he would care little for his threats of using 
violence, and that he gives way to him not out of intimi- 
dation, but simply to avoid scandal. 

The King is admitted into the cell — two bundles of 
straw are shaken down for his accommodation, and he 
comforts himself that he is now und«r shelter, and that 

A night will soon be gone. 

Other wants, however, arise. The guest becomes clam- 
orous for supper, observing, 

" For certainly, as I you say, 
I ne had never so sorry a day, 
That I ne had a merry night. 

But this indication of his taste for good cheer, joined 
to the annunciation of his being a follower of the Court, 
who had lost himself at the great hunting-match, cannot 
induce the niggard Hermit to produce better fare than 
bread and cheese, for which his guest shewed little appe- 
tite ; and " thin drink," which was even less acceptable. 
At length the King presses his host on a point to which 
he had more than once alluded, without obtaining a satis* 
factory reply : 

Then said the King, "by Godys grace, 
Thou wert in a merry place, 

To shoot should thou lere ; 
When the foresters go to rest,- 
Sometyme thou might have of the best, 



14 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

All of the wild deer; 
I wold hold it for no scathe, 
Though thou hadst bow and arrows baith, 

Althoff thou best a Frere." 

The Hermit, in return, expresses his apprehension that 
his guest means to drag him into some confession of offence 
against the forest laws, which, being betrayed to the King, 
might cost him his Hfe. Edward answers hj fresh assur- 
ances of secrecy, and again urges on him the necessity of 
procuring some venison. The Hermit replies by once 
more insisting on the duties incumbent upon him as a 
churchman, and continues to affirm himself free from all 
such breaches of ord«r : — 

" Many a day I have here been, 
And flesh meat I eat never, 

But milk of the kye ; 
Warm thee well, and go to sleep. 
And I will lap thee with my cope, 

Softly to lye." 

It would seem that the manuscript is here imperfect, 
for we do not find the reasons which finally induce the 
curtal Friar to amend the King's cheer. But acknowl- 
edging his guest to be such a " good fellow" as has seldom 
graced his board, the holy man at length produces the 
best his cell affords. Two candles are placed on a table, 
white bread and baked pasties are displayed by the light, 
besides choice of venison, both salt and fresh, from which 
they select collops. " I might have eaten my bread dry," 
said the King, " had I not pressed thee on the score of 
archery, but now have I dined like a prince — if we had 
but drink enow." 

This too is afforded by the hospitable anchorite, who 
despatches an assistant to fetch a pot of four gallons from 



INTRODUCTION TO IVANHOE. 15 

a secret corner near his bed, and the whole three set in to 
serious drinking. This amusement is superintended by 
the Friar, according to the recurrence of certain fustian 
words, to be repeated by every compotator in turn before 
he drank — a species of High Jinks, as it were, by which 
they regulated their potations, as toasts were given in 
latter times. The one toper says fusty handias, to which 
the other is obliged to reply, strike pantnere, and the 
Friar passes many jests on the King's want of memory, 
who sometimes forgets the words of action. The night is 
spent in this jolly pastime. Before his departure in the 
morning, the King invites his reverend host to Court, 
promises at least to requite his hospitality, and expresses 
himself much pleased with his entertainment. The jolly 
Hermit at length agrees to venture thither, and to inquire 
for Jack Fletcher, which is the name assumed by the 
King. After the Hermit had shewn Edward some feats 
of archery, the joyous pair separate. The King rides 
home, and rejoins his retinue. As the romance is imper- 
fect, we are not acquainted how the discovery takes place ; 
but it is probably much in the same manner as in other 
narratives turning on the same subject, where the host, 
apprehensive of death for having trespassed on the respect 
due to his sovereign, while incognito, is agreeably sur- 
prised by receiving honours and reward. 

In Mr. Hartshorne's collection, there is a romance on 
the same foundation, called King Edward and the Shep- 
herd,* which, considered as illustrating manners, is still 

* Like the Hermit, the Shepherd makes havock amongst the King's 
game ; but by means of a sling, not of a bow ; like the Hermit too, he 
has his peculiar phrases of compotation, the sign and countersign 
being Passelodion and Berafriend. One can scarce conceive what 
bumour our ancestors found in this species of gibberish ; bi»t 
" I warrant it proved an excuse for the glass." 



16 WAVERLEY NOYELS. 

more curious than the King and the Hermit ; but it is 
foreign to the present purpose. The reader has here the 
original legend from which the incident in the romance is 
derived ; and the identifying the irregular Eremite with 
the Friar Tuck of Robin Hood's storj, was an obvious 
expedient. 

The name of Ivanhoe was suggested by an old rhyme. 
All novelists have had occasion at some time or other to 
wish with Falstaffj that they knew where a commodity 
of good names was to be had. On such an occasion 
the author chanced to call to memory a rhyme record- 
ing three names of the manors forfeited by the an- 
cestor of the celebrated Hampden, for striking the Black 
Prince a blow with his racket, when they quarrelled at 
tennis ; — 

Tring, "Wing, and Ivanhoe, 
For striking of a blow, 
Hampden did forego, 
And glad he could escape so. 

The word suited the author's purpose in two material 
respects, for, first, it had an ancient English sound ; and, 
secondly, it conveyed no indication whatever of the nature 
of the story. He presumes to hold this last quality to be 
of no small importance. What is called a taking title, 
serves the direct interest of the bookseller or publisher, 
who by this means sometimes sells an edition while it is 
yet passing the press. But if the author permits an over 
degree of attention to be drawn to his work ere it has 
appeared, he places himself in the embarrassing condition 
of having excited a degree of expectation which, if he 
proves unable to satisfy, is an error fatal to his literary 
reputation. Besides, when we meet such a title as the 
Gunpowder Plot, or any other connected with general 



INTRODUCTION TO IVANHOE. 1? 

history, each reader, before he has seen the book, has 
formed to himself some particular idea of the sort of 
manner in which the story is to be conducted, and the 
nature of the amusement which he is to derive from it. 
In this he is probably disappointed, and in that case msij 
be naturally disposed to visit upon the author or the work, 
the unpleasant feehngs thus excited. In such a case the 
literary adventurer is censured, not for having missed the 
mark at which he himself aimed, but for not having shot 
off his shaft in a direction he never thought of. 

On the footing of unreserved communication which the 
Author has established with the reader, he may here add 
the trifling circumstance, that a roll of Norman warriors, 
occurring in the Auchinleck Manuscript, gave him the 
formidable name of Front-de-Boeuf. 

Ivanhoe was highly successful upon its appearance, and 
may be said to have procured for its author the freedom 
of the Rules, since he has ever since been permitted to 
exercise his powers of fictitious composition in England 
as well as Scotland. 

The character of the fair Jewess found so much favour 
in the eyes of some fair readers, that the writer was cen- 
sured, because, when arranging the fates of the characters 
of the drama, he had not assigned the hand of Wilfred to 
Rebecca, rather than the less interesting Rowena. But, 
not to mention that the prejudices of the age rendered 
such a union almost impossible, the author may, in pass- 
ing, observe, that he thinks a character of a highly vir- 
tuous and lofty stamp is degraded rather than exalted by 
an attempt to reward virtue with temporal prosperity. 
Such is not the recompense which Providence has deemed 
worthy of suffering merit, and it is a dangerous and fatal 
doctrine to teach young persons, the most common read- 

voL. xvn. 2 



18 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

ers of romance, that rectitude of conduct and of principle 
are either naturally allied with, or adequately rewarded 
by, the gratification of our passions, or attainment of our 
wishes. In a word, if a virtuous and self-denied character 
is dismissed with temporal wealth, greatness, rank, or the 
indulgence of such a rashly formed or ill assorted passion 
as that of Rebecca for Ivanhoe, the reader will be apt to 
say, verily virtue has had its reward. But a glance on 
the great picture of life will shew, that the duties of self- 
denial, and the sacrifice of passion to principle, are seldom 
thus remunerated ; and that the internal consciousness of 
their high-minded discharge of duty, produces on their 
own reflections a more adequate recompense, in the form 
of that peace which the world cannot give or take away. 

Abbotsfoed. l$t September, 1830. 




DEDICATORY EPISTLE 



TO 



THE REV. DOCTOR DRYASDUST, F.A.S. 

RESIDING AT THE CASTLE GATE, YORK. 



Much esteemed and dear Sir, — It is scarcely 
necessary to mention the various and concurring reasons 
which induce me to place your name at the head of the 
following work. Yet the chief of these reasons may 
perhaps be refuted by the imperfections of the perform- 
ance. Could I have hoped to render it worthy of your 
patronage, the public would at once have seen the pro- 
priety of inscribing a work designed to illustrate the 
domestic antiquities of England, and particularly of our 
Saxon forefathers, to the learned author of the Essays 
upon the Horn of Eang Ulphus, and on the Lands 
bestowed by him upon the patrimony of St. Peter. I am 
conscious, however, that the slight, unsatisfactory, and 
trivial manner, in which the result of my antiquarian 
researches has been recorded in the following pages, takes 
the work from under that class which bears the proud 
motto, Detur dignioru On the contrary, I fear I shall 
incur the censure of presumption in placing the vene- 
rable name of Dr. Jonas Dryasdust at the head of a 



20 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

publication, which the more grave antiquary will perhaps 
class with the idle novels and romances of the day. I 
am anxious to vindicate myself from such a charge ; for 
although I might trust to your friendship for an apology 
in your eyes, yet I would not willingly stand convicted in 
those of the public of so grave a crime, as my fears lead 
me to anticipate my being charged with. ' 

I must therefore remind you, that when we first talked 
over together that class of productions, in one of which 
the private and family affairs of your learned northern 
friend, Mr. Oldbuck of Monkbarns, were so unjustifiably 
exposed to the public, some discussion occurred between 
us concerning the cause of the popularity these works 
have attained in this idle age, which, whatever other 
merit they possess, must be admitted to be hastily written, 
and in violation of every rule assigned to the epopeia. 
It seemed then to be your opinion, that the charm lay 
entirely in the art with which the unknown author had 
availed himself, like a second M^Pherson, of the anti- 
quarian stores which lay scattered around him, supplying 
his own indolence or poverty of invention, by the inci- 
dents which had actually taken place in his country at no 
distant period, by introducing real characters, and scarcely 
suppressing real names. It was not above sixty or 
seventy years, you observed, since the whole north of 
Scotland was under a state of government nearly as 
simple and as patriarchal as those of our good allies the 
Mohawks and Iroquois. Admitting that the author cannot 
himself be supposed to have witnessed those times, he 
must have lived, you observed, among persons who had 
acted and suffered in them ; and even within these thirty 
years, such an infinite change has taken place in the 
manners of Scotland, that men look back upon the habits 



DEDICATORY EPISTLE. 21 

of society proper to their immediate ancestors, as we do 
on those of the reign of Queen Anne, or even the period 
of the Revolution. Having thus materials of every kind 
lying strewed around him, there was little, you observed, 
to embarrass the author, but the difficulty of choice. It 
was no wonder, therefore, that having begun to work a 
mine so plentiful, he should have derived from his works 
fully more credit and profit than the facihty of his labours 
merited. 

Admitting (as I could not deny) the general truth of 
these conclusions, I cannot but think it strange that no 
attempt has been made to excite an interest for the 
traditions and manners of Old England, similar to that 
which has been obtained in behalf of those of our poorer 
and less celebrated neighbours. The Kendal green, 
though its date is more ancient, ought surely to be as 
dear to our feehngs, as the variegated tartans of the 
north. The name of Robin Hood, if duly conjured with, 
should raise a spirit as soon as that of Rob Roy ; and the 
patriots of England deserve no less their renown in our 
modern circles, than the Bruces and Wallaces of Cale- 
donia. If the scenery of the south be less romantic and 
sublime than that of the northern mountains, it must be 
allowed to possess in the same proportion superior soft- 
ness and beauty ; and upon the whole, we feel ourselves 
entitled to exclaim with the patriotic Syrian — " Are not 
Pharpar and Abana, rivers of Damascus, better than all 
the rivers of Israel ? " * 

Your objections to such an attempt, my dear Doctor, 
were, you may remember, two-fold. You insisted upon 
the advantages which the Scotsman possessed, from the 
very recent existence of that state of society in which his 
Bcene was to be laid. Many now ahve, you remarked. 



22 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

well remembered persons who had not only seen the cele- 
brated Roy McGregor, but had feasted, and even fought 
with him. All those minute circumstances belonging to 
private life and domestic character, all that gives veri- 
similitude to a narrative, and individuality^to the persons 
introduced, is still known and remembered in Scotland ; 
whereas in England, civilisation has been so long com- 
plete, that our ideas of our ancestors are only to be 
gleaned from musty records and chronicles, the authors 
of which seem perversely to have conspired to suppress 
in their narratives all interesting details, in order to find 
room for flowers of monkish eloquence, or trite reflections 
upon morals. To match an English and a Scottish author 
in the rival task of embodying and reviving the traditions 
of their respective countries, would be, you alleged, in 
the highest degree unequal and unjust. The Scottish 
magician, you said, was, like Lucan's witch, at liberty to 
walk over the recent field of battle, and to select for the 
subject of resuscitation by his sorceries, a body whose 
limbs had recently quivered with existence, and whose 
throat had but just uttered the last note of agony. Such 
a subject even the powerful Erichtho was compelled to 
select, as alone capable of being reanimated even by her 
potent magic — 

gelidas leto scrutata medullas, 

Pulmonis rigidi stantes sine vulnere fibras 
Invenit, et vocem defuncto in corpore quserit. 

Trhe English author, on the other hand, without supposing 
him less of a conjuror than the Northern Warlock, cap, 
you observed, only have the liberty of selecting his subject 
amidst the dust of antiquity, where nothing was to be 
found but dry, sapless, mouldering, and disjointed bones, 
such as those which filled the valley of Jehoshaphat. You 



DEDICATORY EPISTLE. 23 

expressed, besides, your apprehension, that the unpatriotic 
prejudices of my countrymen would not allow fair play to 
such a work as that of which I endeavoured to demon 
strate the probable success. And this, you said, was not 
entirely owing to the more general prejudice in favour 
of that which is foreign, but that it rested partly upon 
im2)robabihties, arising out of the circumstances in which 
the English reader is placed. If you describe to him a 
set of wild manners, and a state of primitive society 
existing in the Highlands of Scotland, he is much dis- 
posed to acquiesce in the truth of what is asserted. And 
reason good. If he be of the ordinary class of readers, 
he has either never seen those remote districts at all, or 
he has wandered through those desolate regions in the 
course of a summer tour, eating bad dinners, sleeping on 
truckle beds, stalking from desolation to desolation, and 
fully prepared to beheve the strangest things that could 
be told him of a people, wild and extravagant enough to 
be attached to scenery so extraordinary. But the same 
worthy person, when placed in his own snug parlour, and 
surrounded by all the comforts of an Englishman's fire- 
side, is not half so much disposed to believe that his own 
ancestors led a very different life from himself; that the 
shattered tower, which now forms a vista from his window, 
once held a baron who would have hung him up at his 
own door without any form of trial ; that the hinds, by 
whom his little pet-farm is managed, a few centuries ago 
would have been his slaves ; and that the complete influ- 
ence of feudal tyranny once extended over the neighbour- 
ing village, where the attorney is now a man of more 
importance than the lord of the manor. 

While I own the force of these objections, I must con- 
fess, at the same time, that they do not appear to me to 



24 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

be altogether insurmountable. The scantiness of mate- 
rials is indeed a formidable difficulty ; but no one knows 
better than Dr. Dryasdust, that to those deeply read in 
antiquity, hints concerning the private life of our an- 
cestors lie scattered through the pages of our various 
historians, bearing, indeed, a slender proportion to the 
other matters of which they treat, but still, when collected 
together, sufficient to throw considerable light upon the 
vie privee of our forefathers ; indeed, I am convinced, 
that however I myself may fail in the ensuing attempt, 
yet, with more labour in collecting, or more skill in using, 
the materials within his reach, illustrated as they have 
been by the labours of Dr. Henry, of the late Mr. Strutt, 
and, above all, of Mr. Sharon Turner, an abler hand 
would have been successful; and therefore I protest, 
beforehand, against any argument which may be founded 
on the failure of the present experiment. » 

On the other hand, I have already said, that if any 
thing like a true picture of old English manners could be 
drawn, I would trust to the good nature and good sense 
of my countrymen for insuring its favourable reception. 

Having thus replied, to the best of my power, to the 
first class of your objections, or at least having shewn my 
resolution to overleap the bari-iers which your prudence 
has raised, I will be brief in noticing that which is more 
peculiar to myself. It seemed to be your opinion, that 
the very office of an antiquary, employed in grave, and, 
as the vulgar will sometimes allege, in toilsome and 
minute research, must be considered as incapacitating 
him from successfully compounding a tale of this sort. 
But permit me to say, my dear Doctor, that this objection 
!s rather formal than substantial. It is true that such 
slighter compositions might not suit the severer genius 



DEDICATORY EPISTLE. 25 

of our friend Mr. Oldbuck. Yet Horace Walpole 
wrote a goblin tale which has thrilled through many a 
bosom; and George Ellis could transfer all the playful 
fascination of a humour, as delightful as it was uncom- 
mon, into his Abridgment of the Ancient Metrical Ro- 
mances. So that, however I may have occasion to rue 
my present audacity, I have at least the most respectable 
precedents in my favour. 

Still the severer antiquary may think, that, by thus 
intermingling fiction with truth, I am polluting the well 
of history with modern inventions, and impressing upon 
the rising generation false ideas of the age which I de- 
scribe. I cannot but in some sense admit the force of 
this reasoning, which I yet hope to traverse by the fol- 
lowing considerations. 

It is true, that I neither can, nor do pretend, to the 
observation of complete accuracy, even in matters of out- 
ward costume, much less in the more important points of 
language and manners. But the same motive which 
prevents my writing the dialogue of the piece in Anglo- 
Saxon or in Norman-French, and which prohibits my 
sending forth to the public this essay printed with the 
types of Caxton or Wynken de Worde, prevents my at- 
tempting to confine myself within the limits of the period 
in which my story is laid. It is necessary, for exciting 
interest^ of any kind, that the subject assumed should be, 
as it were, translated into the manners, as well as the 
language, of the age we live in. No fascination has ever 
been attached to Oriental literature, equal to that pro- 
duced by Mr. Galland's first translation of the Arabian 
Tales ; in which, retaining on the one hand the splendour 
of Eastern costume, and on the other the wildness of 
Eastern fiction, he mixed these with just so much ordi- 



26 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

nary feeling and expression, as rendered them interesting 
and intelligible, while he abridged the long-winded nar- 
ratives, curtailed the monctonous reflections, and rejected 
the endless repetitions of the Arabian original. The 
tales, therefore, though less purely Oriental than in their 
first concoction, were eminently better fitted for the Eu- 
ropean market, and obtained an unrivalled degree of 
public favour, which they certainly would never have 
gained had not the manners and style been in some de- 
gree familiarized to the feelings and habits of the Western 
reader. 

In point of justice, therefore, to the multitudes who 
will, I trust, devour this book with avidity, I have so far 
explained our ancient manners in modern language, and 
so far detailed the characters and sentiments of my per- 
sons, that the modern reader will not find himself, I 
should hope, much trammelled by the repulsive dryness 
of mere antiquity. In this, I respectfully contend, I have 
in no respect exceeded the fair license due to the author 
of a fictitious composition. The late ingenious Mr. Strutt, 
in his romance of Queen- Hoo-Hall,* acted upon another 
principle ; and in distinguishing between what was an- 
cient and modern, forgot, as it appears to me, that exten- 
sive neutral ground, the large proportion, that is, of 
manners and sentiments which are common to us and to 
our ancestors, having been handed down unaltered 
from them to us, or which, arising out of the principles 
of our common nature, must have existed alike in either 
state of society. In this manner a man of talent, and of 
great antiquarian erudition, limited the popularity of his 
work, by excluding from it every thing which was not 

* The author had revised this posthumous work of Mr. Strutt. See 
General Preface to the present edition, vol. i. p. 19. 



DEDICATORY EPISTLE. 27 

sufficiently obsolete to be altogether forgotten and unintel- 
ligible. 

The license which I would here vindicate, is so neces- 
sary to the execution of mj plan, that I will crave your 
patience while I illustrate my argument a little farther. 

He who first opens Chaucer, or any other ancient poet, 
is so much struck with the obsolete spelling, multiplied 
consonants, and antiquated appearance of the language, 
that he is apt to lay the work down in despair, as encrusted 
too deep with the rust of antiquity, to permit his judging 
of its merits or tasting its beauties. But if some intel- 
ligent and accomplished friend points out to him, that the 
difficulties by which he is startled are more in appearance 
than reality, if, by reading aloud to him, or by reducing 
the ordinary words to the modern orthography, he satis- 
fies his proselyte that only about one-tenth part of the 
words employed are in fact obsolete, the novice may be 
easily persuaded to approach the " well of English unde- 
filed," with the certainty that a slender degree of patience 
will enable him to enjoy both the humour and the pathos 
with which old Geoffi-ey delighted the age of Cressy and 
of Poictiers. 

To pursue this a little farther. If our neophyte, strong 
in the new-born love of antiquity, were to undertake to 
imitate what he had learnt to admire, it must be allowed 
he would act very injudiciously, if he were to select from 
the Glossary the obsolete words which it contains, and 
employ those exclusive of all phrases and vocables re- 
tained in modern days. This was the error of the un- 
fortunate Chatterton. In order to give his language the 
appearance of antiquity, he rejected every word that was 
modern, and produced a dialect entirely different from 
mj that had ever been spoken in Great Britain. He 



28 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

who would imitate an ancient language with success, must 
attend rather to its grammatical character, turn of ex- 
pression, and mode of arrangement, than labour to collect 
extraordinary and antiquated terms, which, as I have 
already averred, do not in ancient authors approach the 
number of words still in use, though perhaps somewhat 
altered in sense and spelling, in the proportion of one 
to ten. 

What I have applied to language, is still more justly 
applicable to sentiments and manners. The passions, the 
sources from which these must spring in all their modifi- 
cations, are generally the same in all ranks and condi- 
tions, all countries and ages ; and it follows, as a matter 
of course, that the opinions, habits of thinking, and 
actions, however influenced by the peculiar state of 
society, must still, upon the whole, bear a strong resem- 
blance to each other. Our ancestors were not more 
distinct from us, surely, than Jews are from Christians ; 
they had " eyes, hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affec- 
tions, passions ; " were " fed with the same food, hurt 
with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, 
warmed and cooled hj the same wintpr and summer," as 
ourselves. The tenor, therefore, of their affections and 
feelings, must have borne the same general proportion to 
our own. 

It follows, therefore, that of the materials which an 
author has to use in a romance, or fictitious composition, 
such as I have ventured to attempt, he will find that a 
great proportion, both of language and manners, is as 
proper to the present time as to those in which he has 
laid his time of action. The freedom of choice which 
this allows him, is therefore much greater, and the diffi- 
culty of his task much more diminished, than at first 



DEDICATORY EPISTLE. 29 

appears. To take an illustration from a sister art, the 
antiquarian details may be said to represent the peculiar 
features of a landscape under delineation of the penciL 
His feudal tower must arise in due majesty ; the figures 
which he introduces must have the costume and character 
of their age ; the piece must represent the peculiar 
features of the scene which he has chosen for his subject, 
with all its appropriate elevation of rock, or precipitate 
descent of cataract. His general colouring, too, must be 
copied from nature : The sky must be clouded or serene, 
according to the cHmate, and the general tints must be 
those which prevail in a natural landscape. So far the 
painter is bound down by the rules of his art, to a precise 
imitation of the features of nature ; but it is not required 
that he should descend to copy all her more minute 
features, or represent with absolute exactness the very 
herbs, flowers, and trees, with which the spot is decorated. 
These, as well as all the more minute points of light and 
shadow, are attributes proper to scenery in general, 
natural to each situation, and subject to the artist's dis- 
posal, as his taste or pleasure may dictate. 

It is true, that this license is confined in either case 
within legitimate bounds. The painter must introduce 
no ornament inconsistent with the climate or country of 
his landscape ; he must not plant cypress trees jpoa 
Inch-Merrin, or Scots firs among the ruins of Persepolis ; 
and the author lies under a corresponding rer'-^aint. 
However far he may venture in a more full detail of 
passions and feelings, than is to be found in the ancient 
compositions which he imitates, he must introduce nothing 
inconsistent with the manners of the age ; his knights, 
squires, grooms, and yeomen, may be more fully drawn 
than in the hard, dry delineations of an ancient illumi- 



3C WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

nateJ manuscript, but the character and costume of the 
age must remain inviolate ; they must be the same figures, 
drawn by a better pencil, or to speak more modestly, 
executed in an age when the principles of art were better 
understood. His language must not be exclusively 
obsolete and unintelligible ; but he should admit, if 
possible, no word or turn of phraseology betraying an 
origin directly modern. It is one thing to make use of 
the language and sentiments which are common to our- 
selves and our forefathers, and it is another to invest them 
with the sentiments and dialect exclusively proper to their- 
descendants. 

This, my dear friend, I have found the most difficult 
part of my task ; and, to speak frankly, I hardly expect 
to satisfy your less partial judgment, and more extensive 
knowledge of such subjects, since I have hardly been 
able to please my own. 

I am conscious that I shall be found still more faulty 
in the tone of keeping and costume, by those who may 
be disposed rigidly to examine my Tale, with reference 
to the manners of the exact period in which my actors 
flourished : It may be, that I have introduced little which 
can positively be termed modern ; but, on the other hand, 
it is extremely probable that I may have confused the 
manners of two or three centuries, and introduced, during 
the reign of Richard the First, circumstances appro- 
priated to a period either considerably earlier, or a good 
deal later than that era. It is my comfort, that errors of 
this kind will escape the general class of readers, and 
that I may share in the ill-deserved applause of those 
architects, who, in their modern Gothic, do not hesitate to 
introduce, without rule or method, ornaments proper to 
different styles and to different periods of the art. Those 



DEDICATORY EPISTLE. 31 

whose extensive researches have given them the means 
of judging my backslidings with more severity, wdll prob- 
ably be lenient in proportion to their knowledge of the 
difficulty of my task. My honest and neglected friend, 
Ingulphus, has furnished me with many a valuable hint ; 
bur the light afforded by the Monk of Croydon, and 
Geoffrey de Vinsauff, is dimmed by such a conglomera- 
tion of uninteresting and unintelligible matter, that we 
gladly fly for relief to the delightful pages of the gallant 
Froissart, although he flourished at a period so much 
more remote from the date of my history. If, therefore, 
my dear friend, you have generosity enough to pardon the 
presumptuous attempt to frame for myself a minstrel 
coronet, partly out of the pearls of pure antiquity, and 
partly from the Bristol stones and paste, with which I 
have endeavoured to imitate them, I am convinced your 
opinion of the difficulty of the task will reconcile you to 
the imperfect manner of its execution. 

Of my materials I have but little to say : They may be 
chiefly found in the singular Anglo-Norman MS. which 
Sir Arthur Wardour preserves with such jealous care in 
the third drawer of his oaken cabinet, scarcely allowing 
any one to touch it, and being himself not able to read 
one syllable of its contents. I should never have got his 
consent, on my visit to Scotland, to read in those precious 
pages for so many hours, had I not promised to designate 
it by some emphatic mode of printing, as 5ri)0 S23tir- 
trOUC IWanUSCript : giving it, thereby, an individ- 
uality as important as the Bannatyne MS., the Auchinleck 
MS., and any other monument of the patience of a Gothic 
scrivener. I have sent, for your private consideration, a 
list of the contents of this curious piece, which I shall 
perhaps subjoin, with your approbation, to the third 



32 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

volume of my Tale, in case the printer's devil should con- 
tinue impatient for copy, when the whole of my narrative 
has been imposed. 

Adieu, my dear friend ; I have said enough to explain, 
if not to vindicate, the attempt which I have made, and 
which, in spite of your doubts, and my own incapacity, I 
am still willing to believe has not been altogether made 
in vain. 

I hope you are now well recovered from your spring 
fit of the gout, and shall be happy if the advice of your 
learned physician should recommend a tour to these 
parts. Several curiosities have been lately dug up near 
the wall, as well as at the ancient station of Habitan^'^m 
Talking of the latter, I suppose you have long sin' . heard 
the news, that a sulky churlish boor has destroyed the 
ancient statue, or rather bas-relief, popularly called Robin 
of Redesdale. It seems Robin's fame attracted more 
visitants than was consistent with the growth of the 
heather, upon a moor worth a shilling an acre. Reverend 
as you write yourself, be revengeful for once, and pray 
with me that he may be visited with such a fit of the 
stone, as if he had all the fragments of poor Robin in that 
region of his viscera where the disease holds its seat. 
Tell this not in Gath, lest the Scots rejoice that they have 
at length found a parallel instance among their neighbours, 
to that barbarous deed which demolished Arthur's Oven, 
But there is no end to lamentation, when we betake 
ourselves to such subjects. My respectful compliments 
attend Miss Dryasdust; I endeavoured to match the 
spectacles agreeable to her commission, during my late 
journey to London, and hope she has received them 
safe, and found them satisfactory. I send this by the 
blind carrier, so that probably it may be some time upon 



DEDICATORY EPISTLE. 33 

its journey.* The last news which I hear from Edin*- 
burgh is, that the gentleman who fills the situation of 
Secretary to the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland,! is 
the best amateur draftsman in that kingdom, and that 
much is expected from his skill and zeal in delineating 
those specimens of national antiquity, which are either 
mouldering under the slow touch of time, or swept away 
by modern taste, with the same besom of destruction 
which John Knox used at the Reformation. Once more 
adieu; vaU tandem^ non immemor mei. Believe me 
to be, 

Reverend, and very dear Sir, 
Your most faithful humble Servant, 

Laurence Temfleton. 

TOPPINGWOLD, NEAR EgREMONT, ) 

Cumberland, Nov. 17, 1817. 3 

* This anticipation proved but too true, as my learned correspond- 
ent did not receive my letter until a twelvemonth after it was 
written. I mention this circumstance, that a gentleman attached to 
the cause of learning, who now holds the principal control of the post- 
office, may consider whether by some mitigation of the present 
enormous rates, some favour might not be shewn to the correspond- 
ents of the principal Literary and Antiquarian Societies. I under- 
stand, indeed, that this experiment was once tried, but that the mail 
coach having broke down under the weight of packages addressed to 
members of the Society of Antiquaries, it was relinquished as a 
hazardous experiment. Surely, however, it would be possible to 
build these vehicles in a form more substantial, stronger in the perch, 
and broader in the wheels, so as to support the weight of Antiquarian 
learning; when, if they should be found to travel more slowly, they 
would be not the less agreeable to quiet travellers like myself. — L. T. 

t Mr. Skene of Rubislaw is here intimated, to whose taste and skill 
the author is indebted for a series of etchings, exhibitmg the various 
localities alluded to in these Novels. [1829.] 

VOL. xvn. 3 




IVANHOE 



CHAPTER I. 



Thus communed these ; while to their lowly dome, 
The full-fed swine return'd with evening home ; 
Compell'd, reluctant, to the several sties, 
With din obstreperous, and ungrateful cries. 

Pope's Odyssey. 

In that pleasant district of merry England which is 
watered by the river Don, there extended in ancient 
times a large forest, covering the greater part of the 
Deautiful hills and valleys which lie between Sheffield 



36 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

and the pleasant town of Doncaster. The remains of 
this extensive wood are still to be seen at the noble seats 
of Went worth, of Wharncliffe Park, and around Rother- 
ham. Here haunted of yore the fabulous Dragon of 
Wantlej ; here were fought many of the most desperate 
battles during the Civil Wars of the Roses; and here 
also flourished in ancient times those bands of gallant 
outlaws, whose deeds have been rendered so popular in 
English song. 

Such being our chief scene, the date of our story refers 
to a period towards the end of the reign of Richard I., 
when his return from his long captivity had become an 
event rather wished than hoped for by his despairing 
subjects, w^ho were in the meantime subjected to every 
species of subordinate oppression. The nobles, whose 
power had become exorbitant during the reign of Stephen, 
and whom the prudence of Henry the Second had scarce 
reduced into some degree of subjection to the Crown, had 
now resumed their ancient license in its utmost extent ; 
despising the feeble interference of the English Council 
of State, fortifying their castles, increasing the number 
of their dependents, reducing all around them to a state 
of vassalage, and striving by every means in their power 
to place themselves each at the head of such forces as 
might enable him to make a figure in the national con- 
vulsions which appeared to be impending. 

The situation of the inferior gentry, or Franklins, as 
they were called, w^ho, by the law and spirit of the Eng- 
lish constitution, were entitled to hold themselves inde- 
pendent of feudal tyranny, became now unusually preca- 
rious. If, as was most generally the case, they placed 
themselves under the protection of any of the petty kings 
•n their vicinity, accepted of feudal offices in his house- 



IVANHOE. 37 

hold, or bound themselves, by mutual treaties of alliance 
and protection, to support bim in bis enterprises, tbey 
might indeed purchase temporary repose ; but it must be 
with the sacrii&ce of that independence which was so dear 
to every Enghsh bosom, and at the certain hazard of 
being involved as a party in whatever rash expedition 
the ambition of their protector might lead him to under- 
take. On the other hand, such and so multiplied were 
the means of vexation and oppression possessed by the 
great Barons, that they never wanted the pretext, and 
seldom the will, to harass and pursue, even to the very 
edge of destruction, any of their less powerful neighbours, 
who attempted to separate themselves from their author- 
ity, and to trust for their protection, during the dangers * 
of the times, to their own inoffensive conduct, and to the 
laws of the land. 

A circumstance which greatly tended to enhance the 
tyranny of the nobility, and the sufferings of the inferior 
classes, arose from the consequences of the Conquest by 
Duke William of Normandy. Four generations had not 
sufficed to blend the hostile blood of the Normans and 
Anglo-Saxons, or to unite, by common language and 
mutual interests, two hostile races, one of which still felt 
the elation of triumph, while the other groaned under all 
the consequences of defeat. The power had been com- 
pletely placed in the hands of the Norman nobihty, by 
the event of the battle of Hastings, and it had been used, 
as. our histories assure us, with no moderate hand. The 
whole race of Saxon princes and nobles had been extir- 
pated or disinherited, with few or no exceptions ; nor 
were the numbers great who possessed land in the country 
of their fathers, even as proprietors of the second, or of 
yet inferior classes. The royal policy had long been to 



38 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

weaken, by every means, legal or illegal, the strength of 
a part of the population which was justly considered as 
nourishing the most inveterate antipathy to their victor. 
All the monarchs of the Norman race had shewn the 
most marked predilection for their Norman subjects ; the 
laws of the chase, and many others equally unknown to 
the milder and more free spirit of the Saxon constitution, 
had been fixed upon the necks of the subjugated inhab- 
itants, to add weight, as it were, to the feudal chains with 
which they were loaded. At court, and in the castles 
of the great nobles, where the pomp and state of a court 
was emulated, Norman-French was the only language 
employed ; in courts of law, the pleadings and judgments 
were delivered in the same tongue. In short, French 
was the language of honour, of chivalry, and even of 
justice, while the far more manly and expressive Anglo- 
Saxon was abandoned to the use of rustics and hinds, who 
knew no other. Still, however, the necessary intercourse 
between the lords of the soil, and those oppressed inferior 
beings by whom that soil was cultivated, occasioned the 
gradual formation of a dialect, compounded betwixt the 
French and the Anglo-Saxon, in which they could render 
themselves mutually intelligible to each other ; and from 
this necessity arose by degrees the structure of our 
present English language, in which the speech of the 
victors and the vanquished have been so happily blended 
together ; and which has since been so richly improved 
by importations from the classical languages, and from 
those spoken by the southern nations of Europe. 

This state of things I have thought it necessary to 
premise for the information of the general reader, who 
might be apt to forget, that, although no great historical 
events, such as war or insurrection, mark the existence 



IVANHOE. 39 

of the Anglo-Saxons as a separate people subsequent tc 
the reign of William the Second ; yet the great national 
distinctions betwixt them and their conquerors, the recol- 
lection of what they had formerly been, and to what they 
were now reduced, continued down to the reign of Ed-> 
ward the Third, to keep open the wounds which the Con- 
quest had inflicted, and to maintain a line of separation 
betwixt the descendants of the victor Normans and the 
vanquished Saxons. 

The sun was setting upon one of the rich grassy glades 
of that forest, which we have mentioned in the beginning 
of the chapter. Hundreds of broad-headed, short-stem- 
med, wide-branched oaks, which had witnessed perhaps 
the stately march of the Roman soldiery, flung their 
gnarled arms over a thick carpet of the most delicious 
greensward ; in some places they were intermingled with 
beeches, hollies, and copsewood of various descriptions, 
so closely as totally to intercept the level beams of the 
sinking sun ; in others, they receded from each other, 
forming those long sweeping vistas, in the intricacy of 
which the eye delights to lose itself, while imagination 
considers them as the paths to yet wilder scenes of silvan 
solitude. Here the red rays of the sun shot a broken 
and discoloured light, that partially hung upon the shat- 
tered boughs and mossy trunks of the trees, and there 
they illuminated in brilliant patches the portions of turf 
to which they made their way. A considerable open 
space, in the midst of this glade, seemed formerly to have 
been dedicated to the rites of Druidical superstition ; for, 
on the summit of a hillock, so regular as to seem artificial, 
there still remained part of a circle of rough unhewn 
stones, of large dimensions. Seven stood upright ; the 
rest had been dislodged from their places, probably by 



40 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

the zeal of some convert to Christianity, and lay, some 
prostrate near their former site, and others on the side of 
the hill. One large stone only had found its way to the 
bottom, and in stopping the course of a small brook, 
which glided smoothly round the foot of the eminence, 
gave, by its opposition, a feeble voice of murmur to the 
placid and elsewhere silent streamlet. 

The human figures which completed this landscape, 
were in number two, partaking, in their dress and ap- 
pearance, of that wild and rustic character, which belonged 
to the woodlands of the West-Riding of Yorkshire, at 
that early period. The eldest of these men had a stern, 
savage, and wild aspect. His garment was of the sim- 
plest form imaginable, being a close jacket with sleeves, 
composed of the tanned skin of some animal, on which 
the hair had been originally left, but which had been 
worn off in so many places, that it would have been 
difficult to distinguish from the patches that remained, to 
what creature the fur had belonged. This primeval vest- 
ment reached from the throat to the knees, and served at 
once all the usual purposes of body-clothing ; there was 
no wider opening at the collar, than was necessary to 
admit the passage of the head, from which it may be 
inferred, that it was put on by slipping it over the head 
and shoulders, in the manner of a modem shirt, or ancient 
hauberk. Sandals, bound with thongs made of boar's 
hide, protected the feet, and a roll of thin leather was 
twined artificially around the legs, and ascending above 
the calf, left the knees bare like those of a Scottish High- 
lander. To make the jacket sit yet more close to the 
body, it was gathered at the middle by a broad leathern 
belt, secured by a brass buckle ; to one side of which was 
attached a sort of scrip, and to the other a ram's horn, 



IVANHOE. 41 

accoutred with a mouthpiece, for the purpose of blowing. 
In the same belt was stuck one of those long, broad, 
sharp-pointed, and two-edged knives, with a buck's-horn 
handle, which were fabricated in the neighbourhood, and 
bore even at this early period the name of ^a Sheffield 
whittle. The man had no covering upon his head, which 
was only defended by his own thick hair, matted and 
twisted together, and scorched by the influence of the 
sun into a rusty dark-red colour, forming a contrast with 
the overgrown beard upon his cheeks, which was rather 
of a yellow or amber hue. One part of his dress only 
remains, but it is too remarkable to be suppressed ; it waa 
a brass ring, resembling a dog's collar, but without any 
opening, and soldered fast round his neck, so loose as to 
form no impediment to his breathing, yet so tight as to 
be incapable of being removed, excepting by the use of 
the file. On this singular gorget was engraved, in Saxon 
characters, an inscription of the following purport : — 
" Gurth, the son of Beowulph, is the born thrall of Cedric 
of Rotherwood." 

Beside the swine-herd, for such was Gurth's occupa- 
tion, was seated, upon one of the fallen Druidical 
monuments, a person about ten years younger in appear- 
ance, and whose dress, though resembling his companion's 
in form, was of better materials, and of a more fantastic 
appearance. His jacket had been stained of a bright 
purple hue, upon which there had been some attempt to 
paint grotesque ornaments in different colours. To the 
jacket be added a short cloak, which scarcely reached 
half way down his thigh ; it was of crimson cloth, though 
a good deal soiled, lined with bright yellow ; and as he 
could transfer it from one shoulder to the other, or at his 
pleasure draw it all around him, its width, contrasted 



42 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

with its want of longitude, formed a fantastic piece of 
drapery. He had thin silver bracelets upon his arms, 
and on his neck a collar of the same metal, bearing the 
inscription, " Wamba, the son of Witless, is the thrall of 
Cedric of ^otherwood." This personage had the same 
sort of sandals with his companion, but instead of the roll 
of leather thong, his legs were cased in a sort of gaiters, 
of which one was red and the other yellow. He was 
provided also with a cap, having around it more than one 
bell, about the size of those attached to hawks, which 
jingled as he turned his head to one side or other ; and 
as he seldom remained a minute in the same posture, the 
sound might be considered as incessant. Around the 
edge of this cap was a stiff bandeau of leather, cut at the 
top into open work, resembling a coronet, while a pro- 
longed bag arose from within it, and fell down on one 
shoulder like an old-fashioned nightcap, or a jelly-bag, or 
the head-gear of a modern hussar. It was to this part 
of the cap that the bells were attached ; which circum- 
stance, as well as the shape of his head-dress, and his 
own half-crazed, half-cunning expression of countenance, 
sufficiently pointed him out as belonging to the race of 
domestic clowns or jesters, maintained in the houses of 
the wealthy, to help away the tedium of those lingering 
hours which they were obliged to spend within doors. 
He bore, like his companion, a scrip, attached to his belt, 
but had neither horn nor knife, being probably considered 
as belonging to a class whom it is esteemed dangerous to 
intrust with edge-tools. In place of these he was equipped 
with a sort of sw^ord of lath, resembling that with which 
Harlequin operates his wonders upon the modern stage. 
The outward appearance of these two men formed 
scarce a stronger contrast than their look and demeanour. 



lYANHOE. 43 

That of the serf, or bondsman, was sad and sullen ; his 
aspect was bent on the ground with an appearance of 
deep dejection, which might be almost construed into 
apathy, had not the fire which occasionally sparkled in 
his red eye manifested that there slumbered, under the 
appearance of sullen despondency, a sense of oppression, 
and a disposition to resistance. The looks of Wamba, on 
the other hand, indicated, as usual with his class, a sort 
of vacant curiosity, and fidgetty impatience of any posture 
of repose, together with the utmost self-satisfaction 
respecting his own situation, and the appearance which 
he made. The dialogue which they maintained between 
them, was carried on in Anglo-Saxon, which, as we said 
before, was universally spoken by the inferior classes, 
excepting the Norman soldiers, and the immediate per- 
sonal dependents of the great feudal nobles. But to give 
their conversation in the original would convey but little 
information to the modern reader, for whose benefit we 
beg to offer the following translation. 

" The curse of St. Withold upon these infernal pork- 
ers ! " said the swine-herd, after blowing his horn obstrep- 
erously, to collect together the scattered herd of swine, 
which, answering his call, with notes equally melodious, 
made, however, no haste to remove themselves from the 
luxurious banquet of beech-mast and acorns on which 
they had fattened, or to forsake the marshy banks of the 
rivulet, where several of them, half plunged in mud, lay 
stretched at their ease, altogether regardless of the voice 
of their keeper. " The curse of St. Withold upon them 
and upon me ! " said Gurth ; " if the two-legged wolf 
snap not up some of them ere nightfall, I am no true 
man. Here, Fangs! Fangs!" he ejaculated at the top 
of his voice to a ragged wolfish-looking dog, a sort of 



14 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

lurcher, half mastiff, half greyhound, which ran limping 
about as if with the purpose of seconding his master ia 
collecting the refractory grunters ; but which, in fact, 
from misapprehension of the swine-herd's signals, igno- 
rance of his own duty, or malice prepense, only drove 
them hither and thither, and increased the evil which he 
seemed to design to remedy. " A devil draw the teeth 
of him," said Gurth, " and the mother of mischief con- 
found the Ranger of the forest, that cuts the foreclaws 
off our dogs, and makes them unfit for their trade ! * 
Wamba, up and help me an thou beest a man ; take a 
turn round the back o' the hill to gain the wind on them ; 

* A most sensible grievance of those aggrieved times were the 
Forest Laws. These oppressive enactments were the produce of the 
Norman Conquest, for the Saxon laws of the chase were mild and 
humane; while those of William, enthusiastically attached to the 
exercise and its rights, were to the last degree tyrannical. The 
formation of the New Forest bears evidence to his passion for hunting, 
where he reduced many a happy village to the condition of that one 
commemorated by my friend, Mr. William Stewart Kose : — 

*' Amongst the ruins of the church. 
The midnight raven found a perch, 
A melancholy place ; 
The ruthless Conqueror cast down, 
Wo worth the deed, that little town. 
To lengthen out his chase." 

The disabling dogs, which might be necessary for keeping flocks and 
herds, from running at the deer, was called lawing, and was in general 
use. The Charter of the Forest, designed to lessen those evils, declares 
that inquisition, or view, for la wing dogs, shall be made every third 
year, and shall be then done by the view and testimony of lawful men, 
not otherwise; and they whose dogs shall be then found unlawed, 
shall give three shillings for mercy, and for the future no man's ox 
shall be taken for lawing. Such lawing also shall be done by the 
assize commonly used, and which is, that three claws shall be cut off 
without the ball of the right foot. See on this subject the Historical 
Essay on the Magna Charta of King John, (a most beautiful volume,) 
by Richard Thomson. 



IVANHOE. 45 

and when thou'st got the weather-gage, thou mayst 
drive them before thee as gently as so many innocent 
lambs." 

" Truly/' said Wamba, without stirring from the spot, 
" I have consulted my legs upon this matter, and they are 
altogether of opinion, that to carry my gay garments 
through these sloughs, would be an act of unfriendship to 
my sovereign person and royal wardrobe ; wherefore, 
Gurth, I advise thee to call off Fangs, and leave the herd 
to their destiny, which, whether they meet with bands of 
travelling soldiers, or of outlaws, or of wandering pil- 
grims, can be little else than to be converted into Normans 
before morning, to thy no small ease and comfort." 

" The swine turned Normans to my comfort ! " quoth 
Gurth ; " expound that to me, Wamba, for my brain is 
too dull, and my mind too vexed to read riddles." 

" Why, how call you those grunting brutes running 
about on their four legs ? " demanded Wamba. 

" Swine, fool, swine," said the herd, " every fool knows 
that." 

" And swine is good Saxon," said the Jester ; " but how 
call you the sow when she is flayed, and drawn and quar- 
tered, and hung up by the heels like a traitor ? " 

" Pork," answered the swine-herd. 

" I am very glad every fool knows that too," said 
Wamba, "and pork, I think, is good Norman-French; 
and so when the brute lives, and is in the charge of a 
Saxon slave, she goes by her Saxon name ; but becomes 
a Norman and is called pork, when she is carried to the 
Castle-hall to feast among the nobles ; what dost thou 
think of this, friend Gurth, ha ? " 

" It is but too true doctrine, friend Wamba, however it 
got into thy fool's pate." 



46 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

" Nay, I can tell you more," said Wamba, in the sama 
tone ; " there is old Alderman Ox continues to hold hia 
Saxon epithet, while he is under the charge of serfs and 
bondsmen such as thou, but becomes Beef, a fiery French 
gallant, when he arrives before the worshipful jaws that 
are destined to consume him. Mynheer Calf, too, becomea 
Monsieur de Yeau in the like manner ; he is Saxon when 
he requires tendance, and takes a Norman name, when ho 
becomes matter of enjoyment." 

" By St. Dunstan," answered Gurth, " thou speakest 
but sad truths ; little is left to us but the air we breathe, 
and that appears to have been reserved with much hesi- 
tation, solely for the purpose of enabling us to endure the 
tasks they lay upon our shoulders. The finest and the 
fattest is for their board ; the loveliest is for their couch ; 
the best and bravest supply their foreign masters with 
soldiers, and whiten distant lands with their bones, leav- 
ing few here who have either will or the power to protect 
the unfortunate Saxon. God's blessing on our master 
Cedric, he hath done the work of a man in standing in 
the gap ; but Reginald Front-de-Boeuf is coming down to 
this country in person, and we shall soon see how little 
Cedric's trouble will avail him. — Here, here," he ex- 
claimed again, raising his voice, " So ho ! so ho ! well 
done. Fangs ! thou hast them all before thee now, and 
bring'st them on bravely, lad." 

" Gurth," said the Jester, " I know thou thinkest me a 
fool, or thou wouldst not be so rash in putting thy head 
into my mouth. One word to Reginald Front-de-Boeuf, 
or Philip de Malvoisin, that thou hast spoken treason 
against the Norman, — and thou art but a castaway swine- 
herd, — thou wouldst waver on one of these trees as a 
terror to all evil speakers against dignities." 



IVANHOE. 47 

*^ Dog, thou wouldst not betray me," said Gurth, " after 
having led me on to speak so much at disadvantage ? " 

" Betray thee ! " answered the Jester ; " no, that were 
the trick of a wise man ; a fool cannot half so well help 
himself — but soft, whom have we here ?" he said, listen- 
ing to the trampling of several horses which became then 
audible. 

" Never mind whom," answered Gurth, who had now 
got his herd before him, and, with the aid of Fangs, was 
driving them down one of the long dim vistas which we 
have endeavoured to describe. 

" Nay, but I must see the riders," answered Wamba ; 
" perhaps they are come from Fairy-land with a message 
from King Oberon." 

"A murrain take thee," rejoined the swine-herd ; "wilt 
thou talk of such things, while a terrible storm of thunder 
and lightning is raging within a few miles of us ? Hark, 
how the thunder rumbles ! and for summer rain, I never 
saw such broad downright flat drops fall out of the clouds ; 
the oaks, too, notwithstanding the calm weather, sob and 
creak with their great boughs, as if announcing a tempest. 
Thou canst play the rational if thou wilt ; credit me for 
once, and let us home ere the storm begins to rage, for the 
night will be fearful." 

Wamba seemed to feel the force of this appeal, and 
accompanied his companion, who began his journey after 
catching up a long quarter-staff which lay upon the grass 
beside him. This second Eumaeus strode hastily down 
the forest glade, driving before him, with the assistance 
of Fangs, the whole herd of his inharmonious charge. 



48 WAVEKLEY NOVELS. 



CHAPTER 11. 

A Monk there was, a fayre for the maistrie, 
An outrider that loyed venerie ; 
A manly man, to be an Abbot able, 
Full many a daintie horse had he in stable : 
And when he rode, men might his bridle hear 
Gingeling in a whistling wind as clear, 
And eke as loud, as doth the chapell bell, 
There as this Lord was keeper of the cell. 

Chaucer 

Notwithstanding the occasional exhortation and 
chiding of his companion, the noise of the horsemen's 
feet continuing to approach, Wamba could not be pre- 
vented from lingering occasionally on the road, upon every 
pretence which occurred ; now catching from the hazel a 
cluster of half-ripe nuts, and now turning his head to leer 
after a cottage maiden who crossed their path. The 
horsemen, therefore, soon overtook them on the road. 

Their numbers amounted to ten men, of whom the two 
who rode foremost seemed to be persons of considerable 
importance, and the others their attendants. It was not 
difficult to ascertain the condition and character of one 
of these personages. He was obviously an ecclesiastic 
of high rank ; his dress was that of a Cistercian Monk, 
but composed of materials much finer than those which 
the rule of that order admitted. His mantle and hood 
were of the best Flanders cloth, and fell in ample and 
not ungraceful folds, around a handsome, though some- 



rVANHOE. 49 

what fjorpulent person. His countenance bore as little 
the marks of self-denial, as his habit indicated contempt 
of worldly splendour. His features might have been 
called good, had there not lurked under the pent-house 
of his eye, that sly epicurean twinkle which indicates the 
cautious voluptuary. In other respects, his profession 
and situation had taught him a ready command over his 
countenance, which he could contract at pleasure into 
solemnity, although its natural expression was that of 
good-humoured social indulgence. In defiance of con- 
ventual rules, and the edicts of popes and councils, the 
sleeves of this dignitary were lined and turned up with 
rich furs, his mantle secured at the throat with a golden 
clasp, and the whole dress proper to his order as much 
refined upon and ornamented, as that of a quaker beauty 
of the present day, who, while she retains the garb and 
costume of her sect, continues to give to its simplicity, by 
the choice of materials and the mode of disposing them, 
a certain air of coquettish attraction, savouring but too 
much of the vanities of the world. 

This worthy churchman rode upon a well-fed ambling 
mule, whose furniture was highly decorated, and whose 
bridle, according to the fashion of the day, was orna- 
mented with silver bells. In his seat he had nothing of 
the awkwardness of the convent, but displayed the easy 
and habitual grace of a well-trained horseman. Indeed, 
it seemed that so humble a conveyance as a mule, in how- 
ever good case, and however well broken to a pleasant 
and accommodating amble, was only used by the gallant 
monk for travelling on the road. A lay brother, one of 
those who followed in the train, had, for his use on other 
occasions, one of the most handsome Spanish jennets 
ever bred in Andalusia, which merchants used at that 

VOL. xvu. 4 



^ 



50 • WAVERLET NOVELS. 

time to import, with great trouble and risk, for the ase 
of persons of wealth and distinction. The saddle and 
housings of this superb palfrej were covered bj a long 
foot-cloth which reached nearly to the ground, and on 
which were richly embroidered mitres, crosses, and other 
ecclesiastical emblems. Another lay brother led a sump- 
ter mule, loaded probably with his superior's baggage ; 
and two monks of his own order, of inferior station, rode 
together in the rear, laughing and conversing with each 
other, without taking much notice of the other members 
of the cavalcade. 

The companion of the church dignitary was a man past 
forty, thin, strong, tall, and muscular; an athletic figure, 
which long fatigue and constant exercise seemed to have 
left none of the softer part of the human form, having 
reduced the whole to brawn, bones, and sinews, which had 
sustained a thousand toils, and were ready to dare a 
thousand more. His head was covered with a scarlet cap, 
faced with fur — of that kind which the French call mor^ 
tier, from its resemblance to the shape of an inverted 
mortar. His countenance was therefore fully displayed, 
and its expression was calculated to impress a degree of 
awe, if not of fear, upon strangers. High features, nat- 
urally strong and powerfully expressive, had been burnt 
almost into Negro blackness by constant exposure to the 
tropical sun, and might, in their ordinary state, be said to 
slumber after the storm of passion had passed away ; but 
the projection of the veins of the forehead, the readiness 
with which the upper lip and its thick black moustaches 
quivered upon the slightest emotion, plainly intimated 
that the tempest might be again and easily awakened. 
His keen, piercing, dark eyes, told in every glance a his- 
tory of difficulties subdued, and dangers dared, and seemed 



IVANHOE. 51 

to challenge opposition to his wishes, for the pleasure 
of sweeping it from his. road bj a determined exertion 
of courage, and of will; a deep scar on his brow gave 
additional sternness to his countenance, and a sinister 
expression to one of his eyes, which had been sliglitlj 
injured on the same occasion, and of which the vision, 
though perfect, was in a slight and partial degree dis- 
torted. 

The upper dress of this personage resembled that of 
his companion in shape, being a long monastic mantle ; 
but the colour being scarlet, showed that he did not 
belong to any of the four regular orders of monks. On 
the right shoulder of the mantle there was cut, in white 
cloth, a cross of a peculiar form. This upper robe con- 
cealed what at first view seemed rather inconsistent with 
its form, a shirt, namely, of linked mail, with sleeves and 
gloves of the same, curiously plaited and interwoven, as 
flexible to the body as those which are now wrought in 
the stocking-loom, out of less obdurate materials. The 
fore-part of his thighs, where the folds of his mantle per- 
mitted them to be seen, were also covered with linked 
mail ; the knees and feet were defended by splints, or 
thin plates of steel, ingeniously jointed upon each other ; 
and mail hose, reaching from the ankle to the knee, effec- 
tually protected the legs, and completed the rider's defen- 
sive armour. In his girdle he wore a long and double- 
edged dagger, which was the only offensive weapon about 
Ids person. 

He rode not a mule, like his companion, but a strong 
hackney for the road, to save his gallant war-horse, which 
SI squire led behind, fully accoutred for battle, with a 
chamfron or plaited head-piece upon his head, having a 
short spike projecting from the front. On one side of 



52 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

the saddle hung a short battle-axe, richly inlaid with 
Damascene carving ; on the other the rider's plumed 
head-piece and hood of mail, with a long two-handed 
sword used by the chivalry of the period. A second 
squire held aloft his master's lance, from the extremity 
of which fluttered a small banderole, or streamer bear« 
ing a cross of the same form with that embroidered 
upon his cloak. He also carried his small triangular 
shield, broad enough at the top to protect the breast, 
and from thence diminishing to a point. It was covered 
with a scarlet cloth, which prevented the device from 
being seen. 

These two squires were followed by two attendants, 
whose dark visages, white turbans, and the Oriental form 
of their garments, shewed them to be natives of some 
distant Eastern country.* The whole appearance of this 

* The severe accuracy of some critics has objected to the com- 
plexion of the slaves of Brian de Bois-Guilbert, as being totally out 
of costume and propriety. I remember the same objection being 
made to a set of sable functionaries whom my friend, Mat Lewis, 
introduced as the guards and mischief-doing satellites of the wicked 
Baron, in his Castle Spectre. Mat treated the objection with great 
contempt, and averred, in reply, that he made the slaves black in 
order to obtain a striking effect of contrast, and that, could he have 
derived a similar advantage from making his heroine blue, blue she 
should have been. 

I do not pretend to plead the immunities of my order so highly as 
this ; but neither will I allow that the author of a modem antique 
romance is obliged to confine himself to the introduction of those 
manners only which can be proved to have absolutely existed in-the 
times he is depicting, so that he restrain himself to such as are plausi- 
ble and natural, and contain no obvious anachronism. In this point 
of view, what can be more natural, than that the Templars, who, we 
know, copied closely the luxuries of the Asiatic warriors with whom 
they fought, should use the service of the enslaved Africans, whom 
the fate of war transfen-ed to new masters ? I am sure, if there are 
DO precise proofs of their having done so, there is nothing, on the other 



IVANHOE. 53 

warrior and his retinue was wild and outlandish ; the 
dress of his squires was gorgeous, and his Eastern at- 
tendants wore silver collars round their throats, and 
bracelets of the same metal upon their swarthy arms and 
legs, of which the former were naked from the elbow, 
and the latter from mid-leg to ankle. Silk and em- 
broidery distinguished their dresses, and marked the 
wealth and importance of their master ; forming, at the 
same time, a striking contrast with the martial simplicity 
of his own attire. They were armed with crooked 
sabres, having the hilt and baldric inlaid with gold, and 
matched with Turkish daggers of yet more costly work- 
manship. Each of them bore at his saddle-bow a bundle 
of darts or javelins, about four feet in length, having 
sharp steel heads, a weapon much in use among the Sar- 
acens, and of which the memory is yet preserved in the 
martial exercise called El Jerridj still practised in the 
Eastern countries. 

The steeds of these attendants were in appearance as 
foreign as their riders. They w^ere of Saracen origin, 
and consequently of Arabian descent ; and their fine 
slender limbs, small fetlocks, thin manes, and easy 

hand, that can entitle us positively to conclude that they never did. 
Besides, there is an instance in Komance. 

John of Rampayne, an excellent juggler and minstrel, undertook to 
effect the escape of Audulf de Bracy, by presenting himself in dis-t 
guise at the court of the king, where he was confined . For this pur- 
Dose, " he stained his hair and his whole body entirely as black as jet, 
so that nothing was white but his teeth," and succeeded in imposing 
himself on the king as an Ethiopian minstrel. He effected by strata* 
gem the escape of the prisoner. Negroes, therefore, must have been 
known in England in the dark ages.* 

* Dissertation on Romance and Minstrelsy, prefixed to Ritson's Ancient 
Hetrical Romances, p. clxxxvii. 



54 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

springy motion, formed a marked contrast, with the 
large-jointed heavy horses, of which the race was culti- 
vated in Flanders and in Normandy, for mounting the 
men-at-arms of the period in all the panoply of plate and 
mail ; and which, placed by the side of those Eastern 
coursers, might have passed for a personification of sub- 
stance and of shadow. 

The singular appearance of this cavalcade not only 
attracted the curiosity of Wamba, but excited even that 
of his less volatile companion. The monk he instantly 
knew to be the Prior of Jorvaulx Abbey, well known 
for many miles around as a lover of the chase, of the 
banquet, and, if fame did him not wrong, of other 
worldly pleasures still more inconsistent with his monastic 
vows. 

Yet so loose were the ideas of the times respecting the 
conduct of the clergy, whether secular or regular, that 
the Prior Aymer maintained a fair character in the 
neighbourhood of his abbey. His free and jovial tem- 
per, and the readiness with which he granted absolution 
from all ordinary delinquencies, rendered him a favourite 
among the nobility and principal gentry, to several of 
whom he was allied by birth, being of a distinguished 
Norman family. The ladies, in particular, were not dis- 
posed to scan too nicely the morals of a man who was a 
professed admu-er of their sex, and who possessed many 
means of dispelling the ennui which was too apt to in- 
trude upon the halls and bowers of an ancient feudal 
castle. The Prior mingled in the sports of the field with 
more than due eagerness, and was allowed to possess the 
best trained hawks, and the fleetest greyhounds in the 
North Riding, — circumstances which strongly recom- 
mended him to the youthful gentry. With the old, he 



IVANHOE. 55 

had another part-'to play, which, when needful, he could 
sustain with great decorum. His knowledge of books, 
however superficial, was sufficient to impress upon their 
ignorance respect for his supposed learning ; and the 
gravity of his deportment and language, with the high 
tone which he exerted in setting forth the authority of 
the church and of the priesthood, impressed them no less 
with an opinion of his sanctity. Even the common peo- 
ple, the severest critics of the conduct of their betters, 
had commiseration with the follies of Prior Aymer. He 
was generous ; and charity, as it is well known, covereth 
a multitude of sins, in another sense than that in which 
it is said to do so in Scripture. The revenues of the 
monastery, of which a large part was at his disposal, 
while they gave him the means of supplying his own 
very considerable expenses, afforded also those largesses 
which he bestowed among the peasantry, and with which 
he frequently relieved the distresses of the oppressed. 
If Prior Aymer rode hard in the chase, or remained long 
at the banquet, — ^if Prior Aymer was seen, at the early 
peep of dawn, to enter the postern of the abbey, as he 
glided home from some rendezvous which had occupied- 
the hours of darkness, men only shrugged up their 
shoulders, and reconciled themselves to his irregularities, 
by recollecting that the same were practised by many of 
his brethren who had no redeeming qualities whatsoever 
to atone for them. Prior Aymer, therefore, and his char- 
acter, were well known to our Saxon serfs, who made their 
rude obeisance, and received his " henedicite, mez jilz^^ in 
return. 

But the singular appearance of his companion and his 
attendants, arrested their attention and excited their won- 
der, and they could scarcely attend to the Prior of Jor- 



56 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

vaulx' question, when he demanded if they knew of any 
place of harbourage in the vicinity ; so much were they 
surprised at the half monastic, half military appearance 
of the swarthy stranger, and at the uncouth dress and 
arms of his Eastern attendants. It is probable, too, that 
the language in which the benediction was conferred, 
and the information asked, sounded ungracious, though 
not probably unintelligible, in the ears of the Saxon 
peasants. 

" I asked you, my children," said the Prior, raising his 
voice, and using the lingua Franca, or mixed language, 
in which the Norman and Saxon races conversed with 
each other, " if there be in this neighbourhood any good 
man, who, for the love of God and devotion to Mother 
Church, will give two of her humblest servants, with 
their train, a night's hospitality and refreshment ? " 

This he spoke with a tone of conscious importance, 
which formed a strong contrast to the modest terms 
which he thought it proper to employ. 

" Two of the humblest servants of Mother Church ! " 
repeated Wamba to himself, — ^but, fool as he was, taking 
care not to make his observation audible ; " I should like 
to see her seneschals, her chief butlers, and her other 
principal domestics ! " . 

After this internal commentary on the Prior's speech, 
he raised his eyes, and replied to the question which had 
been put. 

" If the reverend fathers," he said, " loved good cheer 
and soft lodging, few miles of riding would carry them to 
the Priory of Brinxworth, where their quality could not 
but secure them the most honourable reception ; or, if 
they preferred spending a penitential evening, they might 
turn down yonder wild glade, which would bring them to 



IVANHOE. 57 

the hermitage of Copmanhurst, where a pious anchoret 
would make them sharers for the night of the sheher of 
his roof and the benefit of his prayers." 

The Prior shook his head at both proposals. 

" Mine honest friend," said he, " if the jangling of thy 
bells had not dizzied thine understanding, thou mightest 
have known Clericus clericum non decimat ; that is to 
say, we churchmen do not exhaust each other's hospital- 
ity, but rather require that of the laity, giving them thus 
an opportunity to serve God in honouring and relieving 
his appointed servants." 

"It is true," replied Wamba, "that I, being but an 
ass, am, nevertheless, honoured to bear the bells as well 
as your reverence's mule ; notwithstanding, I did con- 
ceive that the charity of Mother Church and her 
servants might be said, with other charity, to begin at 
home." 

"A truce to thine insolence, fellow," said the armed 
rider, breaking in on his prattle with a high and stem 

voice, " and tell us, if thou canst, the road to How 

called you your Franklin, Prior Aymer ? " 

" Cedric," answered the Prior ; " Cedric the Saxon.— 
Tell me, good fellow, are we near his dwelhng, and can 
you show us the road ? " 

"The road will be uneasy to find," answered Gurth, 
who broke silence for the first time, " and the family of 
Cedric retire early to rest." 

"Tush, tell not me, fellow," said the military rider; 
"'tis easy for them to arise and supply the wants of 
travellers such as we are, who will not stoop to beg the 
hospitality which we have a right to command." 

" I know not," said Gurth, sullenly, " if I should shew 
the way to my master's house, to those who demand as 



58 WAVERLET NOVELS. 



a right, the shelter which most are fain to ask as a fa- 
vour." 

" Do you dispute with me, slave ! " said the soldier ; 
and, setting spurs to his horse, he caused him make a 
demi volte across the path, raising at the same time the 
riding rod which he held in his hand, with a purpose of 
chastising what he considered as the insolence of the 
peasant. 

Gurth darted at him a savage and revengeful scowl, 
and with a fierce, yet hesitating motion, laid his hand on 
the haft of his knife ; but the interference of Prior 
Aymer, who pushed his mule betwixt his companion and 
the swine-herd, prevented the meditated violence. 

" Nay, by St. Mary, brother Brian, you must not think 
you are now in Palestine, predominating over heathen 
Turks and infidel Saracens ; we islanders love not blows, 
save those of holy Church, who chasteneth whom she 
loveth. — Tell me, good fellow," said he to Wamba, and 
seconded his speech by a small piece of silver coin, "the 
way to Cedric the Saxon's ; you cannot be ignorant of it, 
and it is your duty to direct the wanderer even when his 
character is less sanctified than ours." 

" In truth, venerable father," answered the Jester, " the 
Saracen head of your right reverend companion has 
frightened out of mine the way home — I am not sure I 
shall get there to-night myself" 

" Tush," said the Abbot, " thou canst tell us if thou 
wilt. This reverend brother has been all his life engaged 
in fighting among the Saracens for the recovery of tha 
Holy Sepulchre ; he is of the order of Knights Templars, 
whom you may have heard of; he is half a monk, half a 
Boldier." 

" If he is but half a monk," said the Jester, " he should 



IVANHOE. 59 

not be wholly unreasonable with those whom he meets 
upon the road, even if they should be in no hurry to an- 
swer questions that no way concern them." 

'' I forgive thy wit," replied the Abbot, " on condition 
thou wilt show me the way to Cedric's mansion." 

"Well then," answered Wamba, "your reverences 
must hold on this path till you come to a sunken cross, of 
which scarce a cubit's length remains above ground; then 
take the path to the left, for there are four which meet 
at Sunken Cross, and I trust your reverences will obtain 
shelter before the storm comes on." 

The Abbot thanked his sage adviser; and the caval- 
cade, setting spurs to their horses, rode on as men do 
who wish to reach their inn before the bursting of a 
night-storm. As their horses' hoofs died away, Gurth 
said to his companion, " If they follow thy wise direction, 
the reverend fathers will hardly reach Rotherwood this 
night." 

" No," said the Jester, grinning, " but they may reach 
Sheffield, if they have good luck, and that is as fit a place 
for them. I am not so bad a woodsman as to shew the 
dog where the deer lies, if I have no mind he should 
chase him." 

" Thou art right," said Gurth ; " it were ill that Aymer 
saw the Lady Rowena ; and it were worse, it may be, for 
Cedric to quarrel, as is most Hkely he would, with this 
military monk. But, like good servants, let us hear and 
see, and say nothing." 

We return to the riders, who had soon left the bonds- 
men far behind them, and who maintained the following 
conversation in the Norman-French language, usually 
employed by the superior classes, with the exception of 
the few who were still inclined to boast their Saxon de- 
scent. 



60 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

" What mean these fellows by their capricious inso- 
lence ? " said the Templar to the Benedictine, " and why 
did you prevent me from chastising it ? " 

" Marry, brother Brian," replied the Prior, " touching 
the one of them, it were hard for me to render a reason 
for a fool speaking according to his folly ; and the other 
churl is of that savage, fierce, intractable race, some of 
whom, as I have often told you, are still to be found 
among the descendants of the conquered Saxons, and 
whose supreme pleasure it is to testify, by all means in 
their power, their aversion to their conquerors." 

" I would soon have beat him into courtesy," observed 
Brian ; " I am accustomed to deal with such spirits. 
Our Turkish captives are as fierce and intractable as 
Odin himself could have been ; yet two months in my 
household, under the management of my master of the 
slaves, has made them humble, submissive, serviceable, 
and observant of your will. Marry, sir, you must be- 
ware of the poison and the dagger ; for they use either 
with free will when you give them the slightest oppor- 
tunity." 

" Ay, but," answered Prior Aymer, " every land has 
its own manners and fashions ; and, besides that beating 
this fellow could procure us no information respecting the 
road to Cedric's house, it would have been sure to have 
established a quarrel betwixt you and him had we found 
our way thither. Remember what I told you ; this 
wealthy Franklin is proud, fierce, jealous, and irritable ; 
a withstander of the nobility, and even of his neighbours, 
Reginald Front-de-Boeuf, and Philip Malvoisin, who are 
no babes to strive with. He stands up so sternly for the 
privileges of his race, and is so proud of his uninterrupted 
descent from Hereward, a renowned champion of the 



IVANHOE. 61 

Heptarchy, that he is universally called Cedric the 
Saxon ; and makes a boast of his belonging to a people 
from whom many others endeavour to hide their descent, 
lest they should encounter a share of the vae vtctis, or 
severities imposed upon the vanquished." 

" Prior Aymer," said the Templar, " you are a man of 
gallantry, learned in the study of beauty, and as expert 
as a troubadour in all matters concerning the arrets of 
love ; but I shall expect much beauty in this celebrated 
Rowena, to counterbalance the self-denial and forbearance 
which I must exert, if I am to court the favour of such a 
seditious churl as you have described her father Cedric." 

" Cedric is not her father," replied the Prior, " and is 
but of remote relation ; she is descended from higher 
blood than even he pretends to, and is but distantly con- 
nected with him by birth. Her guardian, however, he is, 
self-constituted as I believe ; but his ward is as dear to 
him as if she were his own child. Of her beauty you 
shall soon be judge ; and if the purity of her complexion, 
and the majestic, yet soft expression of a mild blue eye, 
do not chase from your memory the black-dressed girls 
of Palestine, ay, or the houris of old Mahound's paradise, 
I am an infidel, and no true son of the church." 

" Should your boasted beauty," said the Templar, " be 
weighed in the balance and found wanting, you know our 
wager ? " 

" My gold collar," answered the Prior, " against ten 
butts of Chian wine ; they are mine as securely as if 
they were already in the convent vaults, under the key 
of old Dennis the cellarer." 

" And I am myself to be fhe judge," said the Templar, 
•* and am only to be convicted on my own admission, that 
I have seen no maiden so beautiful since Pentecost was a 



62 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

twelvemonth. Han it not so ? — Prior, your collar is in 
danger ; I will wear it over my gorget in the lists of 
Ashby-de-la-Zouche." 

" Win it fairly," said the Prior, " and w^ear it as ye 
will ; I will trust your giving true response, on your word 
as a knight and as a churchman. Yet, brother, take my 
advice, and file your tongue to a little more courtesy than 
your habits of predominating over infidel captives and 
Eastern bondsmen have accustomed you. Cedric the 
Saxon, if offended, — and he is no way slack in taking 
offence, — is a man who, without respect to your knight- 
hood, my high office, or the sanctity of either, would clear 
his house of us, and send us to lodge with the larks, 
though the hour were midnight. And be careful how 
you look on Rowena, whom he cherishes with the most 
jealous care ; an' he take the least alarm in that quarter, 
we are but lost men. It is said he banished his only son 
from his family for lifting his eyes in the way of affection 
towards this beauty, who may be worshipped, it seems, 
at a distance, but is not to be approached with other 
thoughts than such as we bring to the shrine of the 
Blessed Virgin." 

" Well, you have said enough," answered the Templar ; 
" I will for a night put on the needful restraint, and de- 
port me as meekly as a maiden ; but as for the fear of 
his expelling us by violence, myself and squires, with 
Hamet and Abdalla, will warrant you against that dis- 
grace. Doubt not that we shall be strong enough to 
make good our quarters." 

" W% must not let it come so far," answered the Prior; 
" but here is the clown's sunken cross, and the night is so 
dark that we can hardly see which of the roads we are to 
follow. He bid us turn, I think, to the left." 



IVANHOE. 63 

" To the right," said Brian, " to the best of mj remem- 
brance." 

" To the left, certainly, the left ; I remember his point- 
ing with his wooden sword." 

" Ay, but he held his sword in his left hand, and so 
pointed across his body with it," said the Templar. 

Each maintained his opinion with sufficient obstinacy, 
as is usual in all such cases ; the attendants were appealed 
to, but they had not been near enough to hear Wamba's 
directions. At length Brian remarked, what had at first 
escaped him in the twilight ; " Here is some one either 
asleep, or lying dead at the foot of this cross — Hugo, stir 
him with the but-end of thy lance." 

This was no sooner done than the figure arose, exclaim- 
ing in good French, " Whosoever thou art, it is discour- 
teous in you to disturb my thoughts." 

" We did but wish to ask you," said the Prior, " the 
road to Rotherwood, the abode of Cedric the Saxon." 

" I n^yself am bound thither," replied the stranger ; 
" and if I had a horse, I would be your guide, for the 
way is somewhat intricate, though perfectly well known 
to me." 

" Thou shalt have both thanks and reward, my friend," 
said the Prior, " if thou wilt bring us to Cedric's in safety." 

And he caused one of his attendants to mount his own 
led horse, and give that upon which he had hitherto rid- 
den to the stranger, who was to serve for a guide. 

Their conductor pursued an opposite road from that 
which Wamba had recommended for the purpose of mis- 
leading them. The path soon led deeper into the wood- 
land, and crossed more than one brook, the approach to 
which was rendered perilous by the marshes through 
which it flowed ; but the stranger seemed to know, as if 



64 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

by instinct, the soundest ground and the safest points of 
passage ; and by dint of caution and attention, brought 
the party safely into a wilder avenue than any they had 
yet seen ; and, pointing to a large low irregular building 
at the upper extremity, he said to the Prior, " Yonder is 
Rotherwood, the dwelling of Cedric the Saxon." 

This was a joyful intimation to Aymer, whose nerves 
were none of the strongest, and who had suffered such 
agitation and alarm in the course of passing through the 
dangerous bogs, that he had not yet had the curiosity to 
ask his guide a single question. Finding hiniself now at 
his ease and near shelter, his curiosity began to awake, 
and he demanded of the guide who and what he was. 

" A Palmer, just returned from the Holy Land," was 
the answer. 

" You had better have tarried there to fight for the 
recovery of the Holy Sepulchre," said the Templar. 

" True, Reverend Sir Knight," answered the Palmer, 
to whom the appearance of the Templar seemed perfectly 
famihar, " but when those who are under oath to recover 
the holy city, are found travelling at such a distance from 
the scene of their duties, can you wonder that a peaceful 
peasant like me should decline the task which they have 
abandoned ? " 

The Templar would have made an angry reply, but 
was interrupted by the Prior, who again expressed his 
astonishment, that their guide, after such long absence, 
should be so perfectly acquainted with the passes of the 
forest. 

" I was born a native of these parts," answered their 
guide, and as he made the reply they stood before the 
mansion of Cedric, — a low irregular building, containing 
several court-yards or enclosures, extending over a con- 



IVANHOE. o5 

siderable space of ground, and which, though its size 
argued the inhabitant to be a person of wealth, differed 
entirely from the tall, turreted, and castellated buildings 
in which the Norman nobility resided, and which had 
become the universal style of architecture throughout 
England. 

Eotherwood was not, however, without defences ; no 
habitation, in that disturbed period, could have been so, 
without the risk of being plundered and burnt before the 
next morning. A deep fosse, or ditch, was drawn round 
the whole building and filled with water from a neigh- 
bouring stream. A double stockade, or palisade, com- 
posed of pointed beams, which the adjacent forest supplied, 
defended the outer and inner bank of the trench. There 
was an entrance from the west through the outer stockade, 
which communicated by a drawbridge, with a similar 
opening in the interior defences. Some precautions had 
been taken to place these entrances under the protection 
of projecting angles, by which they might be flanked in 
case of need by archers or slingers. 

Before this entrance the Templar wound his horn 
loudly ; for the rain which had long threatened, began 
now to descend with great violence. 




TOL, xvn. 



66 WAVEBLET NOVELS. 



CHAPTER III. 

Then (sad relief!) from the bleak coast that hears 
The German Ocean roar, deep-blooming, strong, 
And yellow-hair'd, the blue-eyed Saxon came. 

Thomson's Liberty. 

In a hall, the height of which was greatly dispropor- 
tion ed to its extreme length and width, a long oaken table, 
formed of planks rough -hewn from the forest, and which 
had scarcely received any polish, stood ready prepared 
for the evening meal of Cedric the Saxon. The roof, 
composed of beams and rafters, had nothing to divide the 
apartment from the sky excepting the planking and 
thatch ; there was a huge fireplace at either end of the 
hall, but as the chimneys were constructed in a very 
clumsy manner, at least as much of the smoke found its 
way into the apartment as escaped by the proper vent. 
The constant vapour which this occasioned, had polished 
the rafters and beams of the low-browed hall, by encrust- 
ing them with a black varnish of soot. On the sides of 
the apartment hung implements of war and of the chase, 
and there were at each corner folding-doors, which gave 
access to other parts of the extensive building. 

The other appointments of the mansion partook of the 
rude simplicity of the Saxon period, which Cedric piqued 
himself upon maintaining. The floor was composed of 
earth mixed with lime, trodden into a hard substance. 



lYANHOE. 67 

such as is often employed in flooring our modern bams. 
For about one quarter of the length of the apartment, the 
floor was raised bj a step, and this space, which was 
called the dais, was occupied only by the principal mem- 
bers of the family, and visitors of distinction. For this 
purpose, a table richly covered with scarlet cloth was 
placed transversely across the platform, from the middle 
of which ran the longer and lower board, at which the 
domestics and inferior persons fed, down towards the bot- 
tom of the hall. The whole resembled the form of the 
letter T, or some of those ancient dinner-tables, which, 
arranged on the same principles, may be still seen in the 
antique Colleges of Oxford or Cambridge. Massive chairs 
and settles of carved oak were placed upon the dais, and 
over these seats and the more elevated table was fastened 
a canopy of cloth, which served in some degree to protect 
the dignitaries who occupied that distinguished station 
from the weather, and especially from the rain, which in 
some places found its way through the ill-constructed 
roof. 

The walls of this upper end of the hall, as far as the 
dais extended, were covered with hangings or curtains, 
and upon the floor there was a carpet, both of which were 
adorned with some attempts at tapestry, or embroidery, 
executed with brilliant or rather gaudy colouring. Over 
the lower range of table, the roof, as we have noticed, 
had no covering ; the rough plastered walls were left bare, 
and the rude earthen floor was uncarpeted ; the board was 
uncovered by a cloth, and rude massive benches supplied 
the place of chairs. 

In the centre of the upper table, were placed two chairs 
more elevated than the rest, for the master and mistress 
of the family, who presided over the scene of hospitality. 



88 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

and from doing so derived their Saxon title of honour, 
which signifies " the Dividers of Bread." 

To each of these chairs was added a footstool, curiously 
carved and inlaid with ivory, which mark of distinction 
was pecuhar to them. One of these seats was at present 
occupied by Ced4*ic the Saxon, who, though but in rank 
a thane, or, as the Normans called him, a franklin, felt, at 
the delay of his evening meal, an irritable impatience, 
which might have become an alderman, whether of an- 
cient or of modern times. 

It appeared, indeed, from the countenance of this pro- 
prietor, that he was of a frank, but hasty and choleric 
temper. He was not above the middle stature, but broad- 
shouldered, long-armed, and powerfully made, like one 
accustomed to endure the fatigue of war or of the chase ; 
his face was broad, with large blue eyes, open and frank 
features, fine teeth, and a well-formed head, altogether 
expressive of that sort of good humour which often lodges 
with a sudden and hasty temper. Pride and jealousy 
there was in his eye, for his life had been spent in assert- 
ing rights which were constantly liable to invasion ; and 
the prompt, fiery and resolute disposition of the man had 
been kept constantly upon the alert by the circumstances 
of his situation. His long yellow hair was equally divided 
on the top of his head and upon his brow, and combed 
down on each side to the length of his shoulders : it had 
but little tendency to grey, although Cedric was approach- 
ing to his sixtieth year. 

His dress was a tunic of forest green, furred at the 
throat and cufi*s with what was called minever ; a kind 
of fur inferior in quality to ermine, and formed, it is be- 
lieved, of the skin of the grey squirrel. This doublet 
bung unbuttoned over a close dress of scarlet which sate 



IVANHOE. 69 

tight to his body ; he had breeches of the same, but they 
did not reach below the lower part of the thigh, leaving 
the knee exposed. His feet had sandals of the same 
fashion with the peasants, but of finer materials, and se- 
cured in the front with golden clasps. He had bracelets 
of gold upon his arms, and a broad collar of the same 
precious metal around his neck. About his waist he wore 
a richly-studded belt, in which was stuck a short straight 
two-edged sword, with a sharp point, so disposed as to 
hang almost perpendicularly by his side. Behind his 
seat was hung a scarlet cloth cloak lined with fur, and a 
cap of the same materials richly embroidered, which com- 
pleted the dress of the opulent landholder when he chose 
to go forth. A short boar-spear, with a broad and bright 
steel head, also reclined against the back of his chair, 
which served him, when he walked abroad, for the pur- 
poses of a staff or of a weapon, as chance might require. 

Several domestics, whose dress held various proportions 
betwixt the richness of their master's, and the coarse and 
simple attire of Gurth the swine-herd, watched the looks 
and waited the commands of the Saxon dignitary. Two 
or three servants of a superior order stood behind their 
master upon the dais ; the rest occupied the lower part 
of the hall. Other attendants there were of a different 
description ; two or three large and shaggy greyhounds, 
such as were then employed in hunting the stag and 
wolf; as many slow-hounds of a large bony breed, with 
thick necks, large heads, and long ears ; and one or two 
of the smaller dogs, now called terriers, which waited 
with impatience the arrival of the supper ; but with the 
sagacious knowledge of physiognomy peculiar to their 
race, forbore to intrude upon the moody silence of their 
laster, apprehensive probably of a small white truncheon 



70 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

whicli lay by Cedric's trencher, for the purpose of repel* 
ling the advances of his four-legged dependents. One 
grisly old wolf-dog alone, with the liberty of an indulged 
favourite, had planted himself close by the chair of state, 
and occasionally ventured to solicit notice by putting his 
large hairy head upon his master's knee, or pushing his 
nose into his hand. Even he was repelled by the stem 
command, " Down, Balder, down ! I am not in the 
humour for foolery." 

In fact, Cedric, as we have observed, was in no very 
placid state of mind. The Lady Rowena, who had been 
absent to attend an evening mass at a distant church, had 
but just returned, and was changing her garments, which 
had been wetted by the storm. There was as yet no 
tidings of Gurth and his charge, which should long since 
have been driven home from the forest ; and such was the 
insecurity of the period, as to render it probable that the 
delay might be explained by some depredation of the out- 
laws, with whom the adjacent forest abounded, or by the 
violence of some neighbouring baron, whose consciousness 
of strength made him equally negligent of the laws of 
property. The matter was of consequence, for great part 
of the domestic wealth of the Saxon proprietors consisted 
in numerous herds of swine, especially in forest-land, 
where those animals easily found their food. 

Besides these subjects of anxiety, the Saxon thane was 
impatient for the presence of his favourite clown Wamba, 
whose jests, such as they were, served for a sort of sea- 
soning to his evening meal, and to the deep draughts of 
ale and wine with which he was in the habit of accom- 
panying it. Add to all this, Cedric had fasted since noon, 
and his usual supper hour was long past, a cause of irrita- 
tion common to country squires, both in ancient and mod- 



IVANHOE. 71 

em times. His displeasure was expressed in broken 
sentences, partly muttered to himself, partly addressed to 
the domestics who stood around ; and particularly to his 
cupbearer, who offered him from time to time, as a seda* 
tive, a silver goblet filled with wine — ^' Why tarries the 
Lady E-owena ? " 

"*She is but changing her head-gear," replied a female 
attendant, with as much confidence as the favourite lady's 
maid usually answers the master of a modern family ; 
" you would not wish her to sit down to the banquet in 
her hood and kirtle ? and no lady within the shire can 
be quicker in arraying herself than my mistress." 

This undeniable argument produced a sort of acqui- 
escent umph ! on the part of the Saxon, with the addi- 
tion, " I wish her devotion may choose fair weather for 
the next visit to St. John's kirk ; — ^but what, in the name 
of ten devils," continued he, turning to the cupbearer, 
and raising his voice as if happy to have found a chan- 
nel into which he might divert his indignation without 
fear or control — " what, in the name of ten devils, keeps 
Gurth so long a-field ? I suppose we shall have an evil 
account of the herd ; he was wont to be a faithful and 
cautious drudge, and I had destined him for something 
better ; perchance I might even have made him one of 
my warders." * 

Oswald the cupbearer modestly suggested, " that it was 

* The original has CnichiSj by which the Saxons seem to have de- 
signated a class of military attendants, sometimes free, sometimes 
bondsmen, but always ranking above an ordinary domestic, whether 
in the royal household or in those of the aldermen and thanes. But 
the term cnicht, now spelt hiigJit, having been received into the Eng- 
ish language as equivalent to the Norman word chevalier^ I have 
avoided using it in its more ancient sense, to prevent confusion. — 
L. T. 



72 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

Bcarce an hour since the tolling of the curfew ; " an ill- 
chosen apology, since it turned upon a topic so harsh to 
Saxon ears. 

" The foul fiend," exclaimed Cedric, " take the curfew- 
bell, and the tyrannical bastard by whom it was devised, 
and the heartless slave who names it with a Saxon tongue 
to a Saxon ear ! The curfew ! " he added, pausing, " ay, 
the curfew ; wliich compels true men to extinguish their 
lights, that thieves and robbers may work their deeds in 
darkness ! — Ay, the curfew ; — Reginald Frontr-de-Boeuf 
and Philip de Malvoisin know the use of the curfew as 
well as William the Bastard himself, or e'er a Norman 
adventurer that fought at Hastings. I shall hear, I 
guess, that my property has been swept off to save from 
starving the hungry banditti, whom they cannot support 
but by theft and robbery. My faithful slave is murdered, 
and my goods are taken for a prey — and Wamba — where 
is Wamba ? Said not some one he had gone forth with 
Gurth ? " 

Oswald replied in the affirmative. 

" Ay ! why this is better and better ! he is carried off, 
too, the Saxon fool, to serve the Norman lord. Fools 
are we all indeed that serve them, and fitter subjects for 
their scorn and laughter, than if we were born with but 
half our wits. But I will be avenged," he added, start- 
ing from his chair in impatience at the supposed injury, 
and catching hold of his boar-spear ; " I will go with my 
complaint to the great council ; I have friends, I have 
followers — man to man will I appeal the Norman to the 
lists ; let him come in his plate and his mail, and all that 
can render cowardice bold ; I have sent such a javelin 
as this through a stronger fence than three of their war 
shields ! — Haply they think me old ; but they shall find. 



IVAJ^HOE. 73 

alone and childless as I am, the blood of Here ward is in 
the veins of Cedric. — Ah, Wilfred, Wilfred ! " he ex- 
claimed in a lower tone, " could'st thou have ruled thine 
unreasonable passion, thy father had not been left in his 
age like the solitary oak that throws out its shattered and 
unprotected branches against the full sweep of the tem- 
pest ! " The reflection seemed to conjure into sadness 
his irritated feelings. Replacing his javelin, he resumed 
his seat, bent his looks downward, and appeared to be 
absorbed in melancholy reflection. 

From his musing, Cedric was suddenly awakened by 
the blast of a horn, which was replied to by the clamor- 
ous yells and barking of all the dogs in the hall, and some 
twenty or thirty which were quartered in other parts of 
the building. It cost some exercise of the whit^ trun-. 
cheon, well seconded by the exertions of the domestics, to 
silence this canine clamour. 

" To the gate, knaves ! " said the Saxon, hastily, as soon 
as the tumult was so much appeased that the dependents 
could hear his voice. " See what tidings that horn tells 
us of — to announce, I ween, some hership * and robbery 
which has been done upon my lands.'* 

Keturning in less than three minutes, a warder an- 
nounced, " that the Prior Aymer of Jorvaulx, and the 
good knight Brian de Bois-Guilbert, commander of the 
valiant and venerable order of Knights Templars, with a 
small retinue, requested hospitality and lodging for the 
night, being on their way to a tournament which was to 
be held not far from Ashby-de-la-Zouche, on the second 
day from the present." 

'' Aymer, the Prior Aymer ! Brian de Bois-Guilbert ! " 

* PUIage. 



74 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

muttered Cedric ; " Normans both ; — ^but Norman oi 
Saxon, the hospitality of Rotherwood must not be im- 
peached ; thej are welcome, since they have chosen to 
halt — more welcome would they have been to have rid- 
den farther on their way — But it were unworthy to mur- 
mur for a night's lodgings and a night's food ; in the 
quality of guests, at least, even Normans must suppress 
their insolence. — Go, Hundebert," he added, to a sort of 
major-domo who stood behind him with a white wand ; 
" take six of the attendants, and introduce the strangers 
to the guests' lodging. Look after their horses and 
mules, and see their traia lack nothing. Let them have 
change of vestments if they require it, and fire, and 
water to wash, and wine and ale ; and bid the cooks add 
what they hastily can to our evening meal ; and let it be 
put on the board when those strangers are ready to share 
it. Say to them, Hundebert, that Cedric would himself 
bid them welcome, but he is under a vow never to step 
more than three steps from the dais of his own hall to 
meet any who shares not the blood of Saxon royalty. 
Begone ! see them carefully tended ; let them not say in 
their pride, the Saxon churl has shewn at once his pov- 
erty and his avarice." 

The major-domo departed with several attendants, to 
execute his master's commands. " The Prior Aymer ! " 
repeated Cedric, looking to Oswald, "the brother, if I 
mistake not, of Giles de Mauleverer, now lord of Middle- 
ham ? " 

Oswald made a respectful sign of assent. " His 
brother sits' in the seat, and usurps the patrimony, of a 
better race, the race of Ulfgar of Middleham ; but what 
Norman lord doth not the same ? This Prior is, they 
say, a free and jovial priest, who loves the wine-cup and 



IVANHOE. 75 

the bugle-hom better than bell and book : Good ; let 
him come, he shall be welcome. How named ye the 
Templar ? " 

"Brian de Bois-Guilbert." 

" Bois-Guilbert ! " said Cedric, still in the musing, 
half-arguing tone, which the habit of living among de- 
pendents had accustomed him to employ, and which 
resembled a man who talks to himself rather than to 
those around him — " Bois-Guilbert ! that name has been 
spread wide both for good and evil. They say he is 
valiant as the bravest of his order ; but stained with 
their usual vices, pride, arrogance, cruelty, and volup- 
tuousness ; a hard-hearted man, who knows neither fear 
of earth, nor awe of heaven. So say the few warriors 
who have returned from Palestine. — Well ; it is but for 
one night; he shall be welcome too.— Oswald, broach the 
oldest wine-cask ; place the best mead, the mightiest ale, 
the richest morat, the most sparkhng cider, the most odor- 
iferous pigments, upon the board ; fill the largest horns.* 
— Templars and Abbots love good wines and good meas- 
ure. — Elgitha, let thy Lady Rowena know we shall not 
this night expect her in the hall, unless such be her 
especial pleasure." 

" But it will be her especial pleasure," answered Elgi- 
tha, with great readiness, " for she is ever desirous to hear 
the latest news from Palestine." 

Cedric darted at the forward damsel a glance of hasty 
resentment ; but Rowena, and whatever belonged to her, 



* These were drinks used by the Saxons, as we are informed by 
Mr. Turner: Morat was made of honey flavoured with the juice of 
Mulberries ; Pigment was a sweet and rich liquor, composed of wine 
highly spiced, and sweetened also with honey ; the other liquors need 
no explanation. — L. T. 



76 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

were privileged and secure from his anger. He only 
replied, " Silence, maiden ; thy tongue outruns thy dis- 
cretion. Say my message to thy mistress, and let her 
do her pleasure. Here, at least, the descendant of Al- 
fred still reigns a princess." Elgitha left the apart- 
ment. 

" Palestine ! " repeated the Saxon ; " Palestine ! how 
many ears are turned to the tales which dissolute crusad- 
ers, or hypocritical pilgrims, bring from that fatal land ! 
I too naight ask — I too might inquire — I too might listen 
with a beating heart to fables which the wily strollers 
devise to cheat us into hospitality — but no — The son who 
has disobeyed me is no longer mine ; nor will I concern 
myself more for his fate than for that of the most 
worthless among the millions that ever shaped the 
cross on their shoulder, rushed into excess and blood- 
guiltiness, and called it an accomplishment of the will of 
God." 

He knit his brows, and fixed his eyes for an instant 
on the ground; as he raised them, the folding-doors at 
the bottom of the hall were cast wide, and, preceded by 
the major-domo with his wand, and four domestics bearing 
blazing torches, the guests of the evening entered the 
apartment. 




IVANHOE. 7t 



CHAPTER IV. 

With sheep and shaggy goats the porkers bled, 
And the proud steer was on the marble spread ; 
"With fire prepared, they deal the morsels ronnd; 
Wine rosy bright the brimming goblets crown'd. 

* « * * * 

Disposed apart, Ulysses shares the treat j 
A trivet table and ignobler seat, 
The Prince assigns 

Odyssey, BooJe XXI. 

The Prior Aymer had taken the opportunity afforded 
him of changing his riding robe for one of yet more 
costly materials, over which he wore a cope curiously 
embroidered. Besides the massive golden signet ring, 
which marked his ecclesiastical dignity, his fingers, though 
contrary to the canon, were loaded with precious gems ; 
his sandals were of the finest leather which was imported 
from Spain ; his beard trimmed to as small dimensions as 
his order would possibly permit, and his shaven crown 
concealed by a scarlet cap richly embroidered. 

The appearance of the Knight Templar was also 
changed ; and, though less studiously bedecked with 
ornament, his dress was as rich, and his appearance far 
more commanding, than that of his companion. He had 
exchanged his shirt of mail for an under tunic of dark 
purple silk, garnished with furs, over which flowed his 
long robe of spotless white, in ample folds. The eight- 
pointed cross of his order was cut on the shoulder of his 



t& WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

mantle in black velvet. The high cap no longer invested 
his brows, which were onlj shaded by short and thick 
curled hair of a raven blackness, corresponding to his 
unusually swart complexion. Nothing could be more 
gracefully majestic than his step and manner, had they 
not been marked by a predominant air of haughtiness, 
easily acquired by the exercise of unresisted authority. 

These two dignified persons were followed by their 
respective attendants, and at a more humble distance by 
their guide, whose figure had nothing more remarkable 
than it derived from the usual weeds of a pilgrim. A 
cloak or mantle of coarse black serge, enveloped his 
whole body. It was in shape something like the cloak 
of a modern hussar, having similar flaps for covering the 
arms, and was called a Sclaveyn^ or Sclavonian. Coarse 
sandals, bound with thongs, on his bare feet ; a broad 
and shadowy hat, with cockle-shells stitched on its brim, 
and a long staff shod with iron, to the upper end of which 
was attached a branch of palm, completed the palmer's 
attire. He followed modestly the last of the train which 
entered the hall, and observing that the lower table scarce 
afforded room sufficient for the domestics of Cedric and 
the retinue of his guests, he withdrew to a settle placed 
beside and almost under one of the large chimneys, and 
seemed to employ himself in drying his garments, until 
the retreat of some one should make room at the board, 
cr the hospitality of the steward should supply him with 
refreshments in the place he had chosen apart. 

Cedric rose to receive his guests with an air of digni- 
fied hospitality, and, descending from the dais, or elevated 
part of his hall, made three steps towards them, and then 
awaited their approach. 

" I grieve," he said, " reverend Prior, that my vow 



IVANHOE. ^ 79 

binds me to advance no farther upon this floor of my 
fathers, even to receive such guests as you, and this 
valiant Knight of the Holy Temple. But my steward 
has expounded to you the cause of my seeming discour- 
tesy. Let me also pray, that you will excuse my speaking 
to you in my native language, and that you will reply in 
the same if your knowledge of it permits; if not, I 
sufficiently understand Norman to follow your meaning." 

" Vows," said the Abbot, " must be unloosed, worthy 
FrankKn, or permit me rather to sjiy, worthy Thane, 
though the title is antiquated. Vows are the knots which 
tie us to Heaven — they are the cords which bind the 
sacrifice to the horns of the altar,- — and are therefore, — 
as I said before, — to be unloosened and dischiirged, unless 
our holy Mother Church shall pronounce the contrary. 
And respecting language, I willingly hold communication 
in that spoken by my respected grandmother, Hilda of 
Middleham, who died in odour of sanctity, little short, if 
we may presume to say so, of her glorious namesake, the 
blessed Saint Hilda of Whitby, God be gracious to her 
soul!" 

When the Prior had ceased what he meant as a con- 
ciliatory harangue, his companion said, briefly and 
emphatically, " I speak ever French, the language of 
King Richard and his nobles ; but I understand English 
sufficiently to communicate with the natives of the 
country." 

Cedric darted at the speaker one of those hasty and 
impatient glances, which comparisons between the two 
rival nations seldom failed to call forth ; but, recollecting 
the duties of hospitality, he suppressed farther show of 
resentment, and, motioning with his hand, caused his 
guests to assume two seats a little lower than his own, 



80 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

but placed close beside him, and gave a signal that tbe 
evening meal should be placed upon the board. 

While the attendants hastened to obev Cedric's com- 

»> 

mands, his eye distinguished Gurth the swine-herd, who, 
with his companion Wamba, had just entered the hall. 
" Send these loitering knaves up hither," said the Saxon, 
impatiently. And when the culprits came before the 
dais, — " How comes it, villains ! that ye have loitered 
abroad so late as this? Hast thou brought home thy 
charge, sirrah Gurth, or hast thou left them to robbers 
and marauders ? " 

*' The herd is safe, so please ye," said Gurth. 

" But it does not please me, thou knave," said Cedric, 
"that I should be made to suppose otherwise for two 
hours, and sit here devising vengeance against my neigh- 
bours for wrongs they have not done me. I tell thee, 
shackles and the prison-house shall punish the next offence 
of this kind." 

Gurth, knowing his master's irritable temper, attempted 
no exculpation ; but the Jester, who could presume upon 
Cedric's tolerance, by virtue of his privileges as a fool, 
replied for them both : " In troth, uncle Cedric, you are 
neither wise nor reasonable to-night." 

" How, sir ? " said his master ; " you shall to the por- 
ter's lodge, and taste of the discipline there, if you give 
your fooltiry such license." 

" First let your wisdom tell me," said Wamba, " is it 
just and reasonable to punish one person for the fault of 
another ? " 

" Certainly not, fool," answered Cedric. 

" Then why should you shackle poor Gurth, uncle, for 
the fault of his do^sr Fanojs ? for I dare be sworn we lost 
not a minute by the way when we had got our herd to- 



rVANHOE. 81 

gether, which Fangs did not manage until we heard the 
vesper-bell." 

"Then hang up Fangs," said Cedric, turning hastily 
towards the swine-herd, " if the fault is his, and get thee 
another dog." 

"Under favour, uncle," said the Jester, "that were 
still somewhat on the bow-hand of fair justice ; for it was 
no fault of Fangs that he was lame and could not gather 
the herd, but the fault of those that struck off two of his 
fore-claws, an operation for which, if the poor fellow had 
been consulted, he would scarce have given his voice." 

" And who dared to lame an animal which belonged to 
my bondsman ? " said the Saxon, kindling in wrath. 

"Marry, that did old Hubert," said Wamba, "Sir 
Philip de Malvoisin's keeper of the chase. He caught 
Fangs strolling in the forest, and said he chased the deer 
contrary to his master s right, as warden of the walk." 

" The foul fiend take Malvoisin," answered the Saxon, 
" and his keeper both ! I will teach them that the wood 
was disforested in terms of the great Forest Charter. But 
enough of this. Go to, knave, go to thy place — and thou, 
Gurth, get thee another dog, and should the keeper dare 
to touch it, I will mar his archery ; the curse of a coward 
on my head, if I strike not off the forefinger of his right 
hand ! — he shall draw bow-string no more. — ^I crave your 
pardon, my worthy guests. I am beset here with neigh- 
bours that match your infidels. Sir Knight, in Holy Land. 
But your homely fare is before you ; feed, and let wel* 
come make amends for hard fare." 

The feast, however, which was spread upon the board, 
needed no apologies from the lord of the mansion. 
Swine's flesh, dressed in several modes, appeared on the 
lower part of the board, as also that of fowls, deer, goats, 

VOL. xvn. 6 



82 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

and hares, and various kinds of fish, together with huge 
loaves, and cakes of bread, and sundry confections made 
of fruits and honey. The smaller sorts of wild-fowl, of 
which there was abundance, were not served up in plat- 
ters, but brought in upon small wooden spits or broaches, 
and offered by the pages and domestics who bore them, 
to each guest in succession, who cut from them such a 
portion as he pleased. Beside each person of rank was 
placed a goblet of silver ; the lower board was accommo- 
dated with large drinking horns. 

When the repast was about to commence, the major- 
domo, or steward, suddenly raising his wand, said aloud, 
— " Forbear ! — Place for the Lady Rowena." A side- 
door at the upper end of the hall now opened behind the 
banquet-table, and Rowena, followed by four female 
attendants, entered the apartment. Cedric, though sur- 
prised, and perhaps not altogether agreeably so, at his 
ward appearing in public on this occasion, hastened to 
meet her, and to conduct her, with respectful ceremony, 
to the elevated seat at his own right hand, appropriated 
to the lady of the mansion. All stood up to receive her ; 
and, replying to their courtesy by a mute gesture of salu- 
tation, she moved gracefully forward to assume her place 
at the board. Ere she had time to do so, the Templar 
whispered to the Prior, " I shall wear no collar of gold 
of yours at the tournament. The Chian wine is your 
own." 

" Said I not so," answered the Prior ; " but check your 
raptures, the Franklin observes you." 

Unheeding this remonstrance, and accustomed only to 
act upon the immediate impulse of his own wishes, Brian 
de Bois-Guilbert kept his eyes riveted on the Saxon 
beauty, more striking perhaps to his imagination, be- 



IVANHOE. 83 

cause differing widely from those of the Eastern sul- 
tanas. 

Formed in the best proportions of her sex, Eowena 
was tall in stature, yet not so much so as to attract observa- 
tion on account of superior height. Her complexion was 
exquisitely fair, but the noble cast of her head and fea- 
tures prevented the insipidity which sometimes attaches 
to fair beauties. Her clear blue eye, which sate enshrined 
beneath a graceful eyebrow of brown sufficiently marked 
to give expression to the forehead, seemed capable to 
kindle as well as melt, to command as well as to beseech. 
If mildness were the more natural expression of such a 
combination of features, it was plain, that, in the present 
instance, the exercise of habitual superiority, and the 
reception of general homage, had given to the Saxon 
lady a loftier character, which mingled with, and qualified 
that bestowed by nature. Her profuse hair, of a colour 
betwixt brown and flaxen, was arranged in a fanciful and 
graceful manner in numerous ringlets, to form which art 
had probably aided nature. These locks were braided 
with gems, and being worn at full length, intimated the 
noble and free-born condition of the maiden. A golden 
chain, to which was attached a small reliquary of the 
same metal, hung round her neck. She wore bracelets 
on her arms, which were bare. Her dress was an under- 
go wn and kirtle of pale sea-green silk, over which hung 
a long loose robe, which reached to the ground, having 
very wide sleeves, which came down, however, very little 
below the elbow. This robe was crimson, and manu- 
factured out of the very finest wool. A veil of silk, 
interwoven with gold, was attached to the upper part 
of it, which could be, at the wearer's pleasure, either 
drawn over the face and bosom after the Spanish 



84 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

fashion, or disposed as a sort of drapery round the 
shoulders. 

When Rowena perceived the Knight Templar's eyes 
bent on her with an ardour, that, compared with the dark 
caverns under which they moved, gave them the effect 
of lighted charcoal, she drew with dignity the veil around 
her face, as an intimation that the determined freedom 
of his glance was disagreeable. Cedric saw the motion 
and its cause. " Sir Templar," said he, " the cheeks of 
our Saxon maidens have seen too little of the sun to 
enable them to bear the fixed glance of a crusader." 

"If I have offended," replied Sir Brian, "I crave 
your pardon, — that is, I crave the Lady Rowena's par- 
don, — for my humility will carry me no lower." 

" The Lady Rowena," said the Prior, " has punished 
us all, in chastising the boldness of my friend. Let me 
hope she will be less cruel to the splendid train which 
are to meet at the tournament." 

"Our going thither," said Cedric, "is uncertain. I 
love not these vanities, which were unknown to my 
fathers when England was free." 

"Let us hope, nevertheless," said the Prior, "our 
company may determine you to travel thitherward; when 
the roads are so unsafe, the escort of Sir Brian de Bois- 
Guilbert is not to be despised." 

" Sir Prior," answered the Saxon, " wheresoever I 
have travelled in this land, I have hitherto found myself, 
with the assistance of my good sword and faithful fol- 
lowers, in no respect needful of other aid. At present, 
if we need journey to Ashby-de-la-Zouche, we do so with 
my noble neighbour and countryman Athelstane of Co- 
ningsburgh, and with such a train as would set outlaws 
and feudal enemies at defiance. 1 drink to you. Sir 



IVANHOE. 85 

Prior, in this cup of wine, which I trust your taste will 
approve, and I thank you for your courtesy. Should 
you be so rigid in adhering to monastic rule," he added, 
" as to prefer your acid preparation of milk, I hope you 
will not strain courtesy to do me reason." 

"Nay," said the priest, laughing, "it is only in our 
abbey that we confine ourselves to the lac dalce or the 
lac acidum either. Conversing with the world, we use 
the world's fashions, and therefore I answer your pledge 
in this honest wine, and leave the weaker liquor to my 
lay-brother." 

*' And I," said the Templar, filling his goblet, " drink 
wassail to the fair Rowena ; for since her namesake in- 
troduced the word into England, has never been one 
more worthy of such a tribute. By my faith, I could 
pardon the unhappy Vortigem, had he half the cause 
that we now witness, for making shipwreck of his honour 
and his kingdom." 

" I will spare your courtesy. Sir Knight," said Rowena, 
with dignity, and without unveiling herself; " or rather I 
will tax it so far as to require of you the latest news from 
Palestine, a theme more agreeable to our English ears 
than the complipients which your French breeding 
teaches." 

"I have little of importance to say, lady," answered 
Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert, " excepting the confirmed 
tidings of a truce with Saladin." 

He was interrupted by Wamba, who had taken his 
appropriated seat upon a chair, the back of which was 
decorated with two ass's ears, and which was placed about 
two steps behind that of his master, who, from time to 
time, supplied him with victuals from his own trencher ; 
a favour, however, which the Jester shared with the 



86 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

favourite dogs, of whom, as we have already noticed, 
there were several in attendance. Here sat Wamba, 
with a small table before him, his heels tucked up against 
the bar of the chair, his cheeks sucked up so as to make 
his jaws resemble a pair of nut-crackers, and his eyes 
half-shut, yet watching with alertness every opportunity 
to exercise his licensed foolery. 

" These truces with the infidels," he exclaimed, without 
caring how suddenly he interrupted the stately Templar, 
" make an old man of me ! " 

" Go to, knave, how so ? " said Cedric, his features 
prepared to receive favourably the expected jest. 

" Because," answered Wamba, " I remember three of 
them in my day, each of which was to endure for the 
course of fifty years ; so that, by computation, I must be 
at least a hundred and fifty years old." 

" I will warrant you against dying of old age, however," 
said the Templar, who now recognised his friend of the 
forest ; " I will assure you from all deaths but a violent 
one, if you give such directions to wayfarers as you did 
this night to the Prior and me." 

" How, sirrah ! " said Cedric, " misdirect travellers ? 
We must have you whipt; you are at least as much 
rogue as fool." 

" I pray thee, uncle," answered the Jester, " let my 
folly, for once, protect my roguery. I did but make a 
mistake between my right hand and my left ; and he 
might have pardoned a greater, who took a fool for his 
counsellor and guide." 

Conversation was here interrupted by the entrance 
of the porter's page, who announced that there was 
a stranger at the gate, imploring admittance and hospi- 
tality. 



lYANHOE. , 87 

" Admit him," said Cedric, " be he who or what he 
may, — a night like that which roars without, compels 
even wild animals to herd with tame, and to seek the 
protection of man, their mortal foe, rather than perish by 
the elements. Let his wants be ministered to with all 
care — ^look to it, Oswald." 

And the steward left the banqueting hall to see the 
commands of his patron obeyed. 




88 ■WAVEELET NOVELS. 



CHAPTER V. 

" Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dunensions, senses, 
fcflfections, passions? Fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, 
Bubject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled 
by the same winter and summer as a Christian is? " 

Merchant op Venice. 

Oswald, returning, whispered into the ear of his 
master, " It is a Jew, who calls himself Isaac of York ; is 
it fit I should marshal him into the hall ? " 

" Let Gurth do thine office, Oswald," said Wamba, 
with his usual effrontery ; " the swineherd will be a fit 
usher to the Jew." 

" Saint Mary ! " said the Abbot, crossing himself, " an 
unbelieving Jew, and admitted into this presence ! " 

" A dog Jew," echoed the Templar, " to approach a 
defender of the Holy Sepulchre ! " 

"By my faith," said Wamba, "it would seem the 
Templars love the Jews' inheritance better than they do 
their company." 

" Peace, my worthy guests," said Cedric ; " my hospi- 
tality must not be bounded by your dislikes. If Heaven 
bore with the whole nation of stiffnecked unbelievers for 
more years than a layman can number, we may endure 
the presence of one Jew for a few hours. But I constrain 
no man to converse or to feed with him. Let him have 
a board and a morsel apart, — unless," he said smiling, 
" these turban'd strangers will admit his society." 



IVANHOE. 89 

" Sir Franklin," answered the Templar, " my Saracen 
slaves are true Moslems, and scorn as mucli as any 
Christian to hold intercourse with a Jew." 

" Now, in faith," said Wamba, " I cannot see that the 
worshippers of Mahound and Termagaunt have so 
greatly the advantage over the people once chosen of 
Heaven." 

** He shall sit with thee, Wamba," said Cedric ; *' the 
fool and the knave will be well met." 

" -The fool," answered Wamba, raising the relics of a 
gammon of bacon, " will take care to erect a bulwark 
against the knave." 

" Hush," said Cedric, " for here he comes." 

Introduced with little ceremony, and advancing with 
fear and hesitation, and many a bow of deep humility, a 
tall thin old man, who, however, had lost by the habit of 
stooping much of his actual height, approached the lower 
end of the board. His features, keen and regular, with 
an aquiline nose, and piercing black eyes ; his high and 
wrinkled forehead, and long grey hair and beard, would 
have been considered as handsome, had they not been 
the marks of a physiognomy peculiar to a race, which, 
during those dark ages, was alike detested by the credu- 
lous and prejudiced vulgar, and persecuted by the gi^eedy 
and rapacious nobility, and who, perhaps, owing to that 
very hatred and persecution, had adopted a national char- 
acter, in which there was much, to say the least, mean 
and unamiable. 

The Jew's dress, which appeared to have suffered con- 
siderably from the storm, was a plain russet cloak of 
many folds, covering a dark purple tunic. He had large 
boots lined with fur, and a belt around his waist, which 
sustained a small knife, together with a case for writing 



90 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

materials, but no weapon. He wore a high square yellow 
cap of a peculiar fashion, assigned to his nation to dis- 
tinguish thera from Christians, and which he doffed with 
great humility at the door of the hall. 

The reception of this person in the hall of Cedric the 
Saxon was such as might have satisfied the most prej- 
udiced enemy of the tribes of Israel. Cedric himself 
coldly nodded in answer to the Jew's repeated salutations, 
and signed to him to take place at the lower end of the 
table, where, however, no one offered to make rooiq^ for 
him. Oh the contrary, as he passed along the file, cast- 
ing a timid supplicating glance, and turning towards each 
of those who occupied the lower end of the board, the 
Saxon domestics squared their shoulders, and continued 
to devour their supper with great perseverance, paying 
not the least attention to the wants of the new guest. 
The attendants of the Abbot crossed themselves, with 
looks of pious horror, and the very heathen Saracens, as 
Isaac drew near them, curled up their whiskers with 
indignation, and laid their hands on their poniards, as 
if ready to rid themselves by the most desperate means 
from the apprehended contamination of his nearer 
approach. 

Probably the same motives which induced Cedric to 
open his hall to this son of a rejected people, would have 
made him insist on his attendants receiving Isaac with 
more courtesy. But the Abbot had, at this moment, 
engaged him in a most interesting discussion on the breed 
and character of his favourite hounds, which he would 
not have interrupted for matters of much greater impor- 
tance than that of a Jew going to bed supperless. While 
Isaac thus stood an outcast in the present society, like his 
people among the nations, looking in vain for welcome or 



IVANHOE. 91 

resting-place, the pilgrim who sat by the chimney took 
compassion upon him, and resigned his seat, saying 
briefly, " Old man, my garments are dried, my hunger is 
appeased, thou art both wet and fasting." So saying, he 
gathered together, and brought to a flame, the decaying 
brands which lay scattered on the ample hearth ; took 
from the larger board a mess of pottage and seethed kid, 
placed it upon the small table at which he had himself 
supped, and, without waiting the Jew's thanks, went to 
the other side of the hall; — whether from unwillingness 
to hold more close communication with the object of his 
benevolence, or from a wish to draw near to the upper 
end of the table, seemed uncertain. 

Had there been painters in those days capable to exe- 
cute such a subject, the Jew, as he bent his withered 
form, and expanded his chilled and trembling hands over 
the fire, would have formed no bad emblematical personi- 
fication of the winter season. Having dispelled the cold, 
he turned eagerly to the smoking mess which was placed 
before him, and ate with a haste and an apparent rehsh, 
that seemed to betoken long abstinence from food. 

Meanwhile the Abbot and Cedric continued their dis- 
course upon hunting ; the Lady Rowena seemed engaged 
in conversation with one of her attendant females ; and 
the haughty Templar, whose eye wandered from the Jew 
to the Saxon beauty, revolved in his mind thoughts which 
appeared deeply to interest him. 

" I marvel, worthy Cedric," said the Abbot, as their 
discourse proceeded, " that, great as your predilection is 
for your own manly language, you do not receive the 
Norman-French into your favour, so far at least as the 
mystery of woodcraft and hunting is concerned. Surely 
no tongue is so rich in the various phrases which the 



92 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

field-sports demand, or furnishes means to the experienced 
woodman so well to express his jovial art." 

" Good Father Aymer/' said the Saxon, " be it known 
to you, I care not for those over-sea refinements, without 
which I can well enough take my pleasure in the woods. 
I can wind my horn, though I call not the blast either a 
recheate or a morte — I can cheer my dogs on the prey, 
and I can flay and quarter the animal when it is brought 
down, without using the new-fangled jargon of cureey 
arbor, nombles, and all the babble of the fabulous Sir 
Tristrem." * 

" The French," said the Templar, raising his voice 
with the presumptuous and authoritative tone which he 
used upon all occasions, " is not only the natural language 
of the chase, but that of love and war, in which ladies 
should be won and enemies defied." 

" Pledge me in a cup of wine. Sir Templar," said 
Cedric, *• and fill another to the Abbot, while I look back 
some thirty years to tell you another tale. As Cedric 
the Saxon then was, his plain English tale needed no 
garnish from French troubadours, when it was told in the 
ear of beauty ; and the field of Northallerton, upon the 
day of the Holy Standard, could tell whether the Saxon 



* Thei 3 was no language which the Normans more formally separat- 
ed from that of common life than the terms of the chase. The objecta 
of their pursuit, whether bird or animal, changed their name each 
year, and there were a hundred conventional terms, to be ignorant of 
which was to be without one of the distinguishing marks of a gentle- 
man. The reader may consult Dame Juliana Berners' book on the 
subject. The original of this science was imputed to the celebrated 
Sir Tristrem, famous for his tragic intrigue with the beautiful Ysolte. 
As the Normans reserved the amusement of hunting strictly to them- 
selves, the terms of this formal jargon Avere all taken from the Frencli 
language. 



IVANHOE. 93 

war-cry was not heard as far within the ranks of the 
Scottish host as the cri de guerre of the boldest Norman 
baron. To the memory of the brave who fought there ! 
i — Pledge me, my guests." He drank deep, and went on 
with increasing warmth. " Ay, that was a day of cleav- 
ing of shields, when a hundred banners were bent for- 
wards over the heads of the valiant, and blood flowed 
round like water, and death was held better than flight. 
A Saxon bard had called it a feast of the swords — a 
gathering of the eagles to the prey — the clashing of bills 
upon shield and helmet, the shouting of battle more joyful 
than the clamour of a bridal. But our bards are no 
more," he said ; " our deeds are lost in those of another 
race — our language — our very name — ^is hastening to 
decay, and none mourns for it save one solitary old man 
— Cupbearer ! knave, fill the goblets — To the strong in 
arms, Sir Templar, be their race or language what it 
will, who now bear them best in Palestine among the 
champions of the Cross ! " 

" It becomes not one wearing this badge to answer^* 
said Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert ; " yet to whom, besides 
the sworn champions of the Holy Sepulchre, can the palm 
be assigned among the champions of the Cross ? " 

" To the Knights Hospitallers," said the Abbot ; " I 
have a brother of their order." 

" I impeach not their fame," said the Templar ; " never- 
theless " 

"I think, friend Cedric," said Wamba, interfering, 
'* that had Richard of the Lion's Heart been wise enough 
to have taken a fool's advice, he might have staid at home 
with his merry Englishmen, and left the recovery of 
Jerusalem to those same Ejiights who had most to do 
♦vith the loss of it." 



94 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

" Were there, then, none in the English army," said 
the Ladj Rowena, " whose names are worthy to be 
mentioned with the Knights of the Temple, and of St. 
John ? " 

" Forgive me, lady," replied De Bois-Guilbert ; " the 
English monarch did, indeed, bring to Palestine a 
host of gallant warriors, second only to those whose 
breasts have been the unceasing bulwark of that blessed 
land." 

" Second to none," said the Pilgrim, who had stood 
near enough to hear, and had listened to this conversation 
with marked impatience. All turned toward the spot 
from whence this unexpected asseveration was heard. 
"I say," repeated the Pilgrim, in a firm and strong voice, 
" that the English chivalry were second to none w^ho 
ever drew sword in defence of the Holy Land. I say 
besides, for I saw it, that King Richard himself, and five 
of his knights, held a tournament after the taking of St. 
John-de-Acre, as challengers against all comers. I say, 
that, on that day, each knight ran three courses, and cast 
to the ground three antagonists. I add, that seven of 
these assailants were Knights of the Temple — and Sir 
Brian de Bois-Guilbert well knows the truth of what I 
tell you." 

It is impossible for language to describe the bitter 
scowl of rage which rendered yet darker the swarthy 
countenance of the Templar. In the extremity of his 
resentment and confusion his quivering fingers griped 
towards the handle of his sword, and perhaps only with- 
drew, from the consciousness that no act of violence could 
be safely executed in that place and presence. Cedric, 
whose feelings were all of a right onward and simple 
kind, and were seldom occupied by more than one object 



IVANHOE. 96 

at once, omitted, in the joyous glee with which he heard 
of the glory of his countrymen, to remark the angry 
confusion of his guest ; " I would give thee this golden 
bracelet, Pilgrim," he said, " couldst thou tell me the 
names of those knights who upheld so gallantly the 
renown of merry England." 

" That will I do blithely," replied the Pilgrim, " and 
without guerdon ; my oath, for a time, prohibits me from 
touching gold." 

" I will wear the bracelet for you, if you will, friend 
Palmer," said Wamba. 

" The first in honour as in arms, in renown as in 
place," said the Pilgrim, " was the brave Richard, King 
of England." 

" I forgive him," said Cedric ; " I forgive him his de- 
scent from the tyrant Duke William." 

" The Earl of Leicester was the second," continued 
the Pilgrim ; " Sir Thomas Multon of Gilsland was the 
third." 

" Of Saxon descent, he at least," said Cedric, with 
exultation. 

" Sir Foulk Doilly the fourth," proceeded the Pilgrim. 

" Saxon also, at least by the mother's side," continued 
Cedric, who listened with the utmost eagerness, and for- 
got, in part at least, his hatred to the Normans, in the 
common triumph of the King of England and his island- 
ers. " And who was the fifth ? " he demanded. 

" The fifth was Sir Edwin Tumeham." 

" Genuine Saxon, by the soul of Hengist ! " shouted 
Cedric — '' And the sixth ? " he continued with eagerness 
— " how name you the sixth ? " 

" The sixth," said the Palmer, after a pause, in which 
he seemed to recollect himself, " was a young knight of 



96 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

lesser renown and lower rank, assumed into that hon- 
ourable company, less to aid their enterprise than to 
make up their number — his name dwells not in my 
memory." 

" Sir Palmer," said Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert scorn- 
fully, " this assumed forgetfulness, after so much has been 
remembered, comes too late to serve your purpose. I 
will myself tell the name of the knight before whose 
lance fortune and my horse's fault occasioned my falling 
—it was the Knight of Ivanhoe ; nor was there one of 
the six that, for his years, had more renown in arms. — 
Yet this will I say, and loudly — that were he in England, 
and durst repeat, in this week's tournament, the challenge 
of St. John-de-Acre, I mounted and armed as I now am, 
would give him every advantage of w^eapons, and abide 
the result." 

" Your challenge would be soon answered," replied the 
Palmer, " were your antagonist near you. As the matter 
is, disturb not the peaceful hall with vaunts of the issue 
of a conflict, which you well know cannot take place. If 
Ivanhoe ever returns from Palestine, I will be his surety 
that he meets you." 

" A goodly security ! " said the Knight Templar ; " and 
what do you proffer as a pledge." 

" This reliquary," said the Palmer, taking a small 
ivory box from his bosom, and crossing himself; " con- 
taining a portion of the true cross, brought from the 
Monastery of Mount Carmel." 

The prior of Jorvaulx crossed himself, and repeated a 
pater noster, in which all devoutly joined, excepting the 
Jew, the Mahomedans, and the Templar ; the latter of 
whom, without vailing his bonnet, or testifying any rev- 
erence for the alleged sanctity of the relic, took from his 



IVANHOE. 97 

neck a gold chain, which he flung on the board, saying — 
" Let Prior Ajmer hold my pledge and that of this 
nameless vagrant, in token, that when the Knight of 
Ivanhoe comes within the four seas of Britain, he un- 
derlies the challenge of Brian de Bois-Guilbert, which, 
if he answer not, I will proclaim him as a coward on the 
walls of every Temple Court in Europe." 

" It will not need," said the Lady Rowena, breaking 
silence ; " My voice shall be heard, if no other in this hall 
is raised in behalf of the absent Ivanhoe. I affirm he 
wiU meet fairly every honourable challenge. Could my 
weak warrant add security to the inestimable pledge of 
this holy pilgrim, I would pledge name and fame that 
Ivanhoe gives this proud knight the meeting he desires." 

A crowd of conflicting emotions seemed to have occu- 
pied Cedric, and kept him silent during this discussion. 
Gratified pride, resentment, embarrassment, chased each 
other over his broad and open brow, hke the shadow of 
clouds drifting over a harvest-field ; while his attendants, 
on whom the name of the sixth knight seemed to produce 
an effect almost electrical, hung in suspense upon their 
master's looks. But when Rowena spoke, the sound of 
her voice seemed to startle him from his silence. 

" Lady," said Cedric, " this beseems not ; were farther 
pledge necessary, I myself, offended, and justly offended, 
as I am, would yet gage my honour for the honour of 
Ivanhoe. But the wager of battle is complete, even ac- 
cording to the fantastic fashions of Norman chivalry — Is 
it not. Father Aymer ? " 

" It is," replied the Prior ; "and the blessed relic and 
rich chain will I bestow safely in the treasury of our con- 
vent, until the decision of this warlike challenge." 

Having thus spoken, he crossed himself again and 

VOL. XVII. 7 



98 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

again, and after many genuflections and muttered prayers, 
he delivered the reliquary to Brother Ambrose, his at- 
tendant monk, while he himself swept up with less cere- 
mony, but perhaps with no less internal satisfaction, the 
golden chain, and bestowed it in a pouch lined with per- 
fumed leather, which opened under his arm. " And now, 
Sir Cedric," he said, " my ears are chiming vespers with 
the strength of your good wine — permit us another pledge 
to the welfare of the Lady Eowena, and indulge us with 
liberty to pass to our repose." 

" By the rood of Bromholme," said the Saxon, " you 
do but small credit to your fame, Sir Prior! Report 
speaks you a bonny monk, that would hear the matin 
chime ere he quitted his bowl ; and, old as I am, I feared 
to have shame in encountering you. But, by my faith, a 
Saxon boy of twelve, in my time, would not so soon have 
relinquished his goblet." 

The Prior had his own reasons, however, for persever- 
ing in the course of temperance which he had adopted. 
He was not only a professional peace-maker, but from 
practice a hater of all feuds and braws. It was not alto- 
gether from a love to his neighbour, or to himself, oi* 
from a mixture of both. On the present occasion, he 
had an instinctive apprehension of the fiery temper of 
the Saxon, and saw the danger that the reckless and 
presumptuous spirit, of which his companion had already 
given so many proofs, might at length produce some dis- 
agreeable explosion. He therefore gently insinuated the 
incapacity of the native of any other country to engage 
in the genial conflict of the bowl with the hearty and 
strong-headed Saxons; something he mentioned, but 
slightly, about his own holy character, and ended by 
pressing his proposal to depart to repose. 



rVANHOE. 99 

The grace-cup was accordingly served round, and the 
guests, after making deep obeisance to their landlord and 
to the Lady Rowena, arose, and mingled in the hall, 
while the heads of the family, by separate doors, retu^ed 
with their attendants. 

" Unbelieving dog," said the Templar to Isaac the Jew, 
as he passed him in the throng, "dost thou bend thy 
course to the tournament ? " 

" I do so propose," rephed Isaac, bowing in all humil- 
ity, " if il please your reverend valour." 

'^ Ay," said the Knight, " to gnaw the bowels of our 
nobles with usury, and to gull women and boys with 
gauds and toys — I warrant thee store of shekels in thy 
Jewish scrip." 

" Not a shekel, not a silver penny, not a halfling — ^so 
help me the God of Abraham ! " said the Jew, clasping 
his hands; "I go but to seek the assistance of some 
brethren of my tribe to aid me to pay the fine which the 
Exchequer of the Jews* have imposed upon me — 
Father Jacob be my speed ! I am an impoverished 
wretch — the very gaberdine I wear is borrowed from 
Reuben of Tadcaster." 

The Templar smiled sourly as he replied, " Beshrew 
thee for a false-hearted liar ! " and passing onward, as if 
disdaining farther conference, he communed with his 
Moslem slaves in a language unknown to the bystanders. 
The poor Israelite seemed so staggered by the address 
of the military monk, that the Templar had passed on to 
the extremity of the hall ere he raised his head from the 
humble posture which he had assumed so far as to be 

* In those days the Jews were subjected to an Exchequer, specially 
dedicated to that purpose, and which laid them under the most ex- 
irbitant impositions. — L. T. 



100 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

sensible of his departure. And when he did look around, 
it was with the astonished air of one at whose feet a 
thunderbolt has just burst, and who hears still the 
astounding report ringing in his ears. 

The Templar and Prior were shortly after marshalled 
to their sleeping apartments by the steward and the cup- 
bearer, each attended by two torchbearers and two ser- 
vants carrying refreshments, while servants of inferior 
condition indicated to their retinue and to the other guests 
their respective places of repose. 




IVANHOE. 101 



CHAPTER VL 

To buy his fovour I extend this friendship : 

If he will take it, so ; if not, adieu ; 

And, for my love, I pray you wrong me not. 

Meechant op Venice. 

As the Palmer, lighted by a domestic with a torch, 
passed through the intricate combination of apartments 
of this large and irregular mansion, the cupbearer coming 
behind him whispered in his ear, that if he had no objec- 
tion to a cup of good mead in his apartment, there were 
many domestics in that family who would gladly hear 
the news he had brought from the Holy Land, and par- 
ticularly that which concerned the Knight of Ivanhoe, 
Wamba presently appeared to urge the same request, 
observing that a cup after midnight was worth three after 
curfew. Without disputing a maxim urged by such 
grave authority, the Palmer thanked them for their cour- 
tesy, but observed, that he had included in his religious 
vow, an obligation never to speak in the kitchen on mat- 
ters which were prohibited in the hall. " That vow,** 
said Wamba to the cupbearer, " would scarce suit a 
serving-man." 

The cupbearer shrugged up his shoulders in displeas- 
ure. " I thouorht to have lodo-ed him in the solere cham- 
ber," said he ; " but since he is so unsocial to Christians, 
e'en let him take the next stall to Isaac the Jew's. — ^An- 



102 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

wold," said he to the torchbearer, " carry the Pilgrim to 
the southern cell. — I give you good-night/' he added, 
" Sir Palmer, with small thanks for short courtesy." 

" Good-night, and Our Lady's benison," said the 
Palmer, with composure ; and his guide moved forward. 

In a small antechamber, into which several doors 
opened, and which was hghted by a small iron lamp, they 
met a second interruption from the waiting-maid of 
Eowena, who, saying in a tone of authority, that her mis- 
tress desired to speak with the Palmer, took the torch 
from the hand of An wold, and, bidding him await her 
return, made a sign to the Palmer to follow. Apparently 
he did not think it proper to decline this invitation as he 
had done the former ; for, though his gesture indicated 
some surprise at the summons, he obeyed it without an- 
swer or remonstrance. 

A short passage, and an ascent of seven steps, each of 
which was composed of a solid beam of oak, led him to 
the apartment of the Lady Rowena, the rude magnifi- 
cence of which corresponded to the respect which was 
paid to her by the lord of the mansion. The walls were 
covered with embroidered hangings, on which different col- 
oured silks, interwoven with gold and silver threads, had 
been employed with all the art of which the age was capa- 
ble, to represent the sports of hunting and hawking. The 
bed was adorned with the same rich tapestry, and sur- 
rounded with curtains dyed with purple. The seats had 
also their stained coverings, and one, w^hich was higher 
than the rest, was accommodated with a footstool of ivory, 
curiously carved. 

No fewer than four silver candelabras, holding great 
waxen torches, served to illuminate this apartment. Yet 
let not modern beauty envy the magnificence of a Saxon 



IVANHOE. 103 

princess. The walls of tlie apartment were so ill finished, 
and so full of crevices, that the rich hangings shook to the 
night blast, and, in despite of a sort of screen intended to 
protect them from the wind, the flame of the torches 
streamed sideways into the air, like the unfurled pennon 
of a chieftain. Magnificence there was, with some rude 
attempt at taste ; but of comfort there was little, and, 
being unknown, it was unmissed. 

The' Lady Rowena, with three of her attendants stand- 
ing at her back, and arranging her hair ere she lay down 
to rest, was seated in the sort of throne already men- 
tioned, and looked as if born to exact general homage. 
The Pilgrim acknowledged her claim to it by a low genu- 
flection. 

" Rise, Palmer," said she, graciously. " The defender 
of the absent has a right to favourable reception from all 
who value truth, and honour manhood." She then said 
to her train, " Retire, excepting only Elgitha ; I would 
speak with this holy Pilgrim." 

The maidens, without leaving the apartment, retired to 
its farthest extremity, and sat down on a small bench 
against the wall, where they remained mute as statues, 
though at such a distance that their whispers could not 
have interrupted the conversation of their mistress. 

" Pilgrim," said the Lady, after a moment's pause, 
during which she seemed uncertain how to address him, 
" you this night mentioned a name — I mean," she said, 
with a degree of effort, " the name of Ivanhoe, in the 
halls where by nature and kindred it should have 
sounded most acceptably ; and yet, such is the perverse 
course of fate, that of many whose hearts must have 
throbbed at the sound, I only dare ask you where, and 
in what condition, you left him of whom you spoke ? — 



104 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

We heard, that, having remained in Palestine, on account 
of his impaired health, after the departure of the Eng- 
lish army, he had experienced the persecution of the 
French faction, to whom the Templars are known to be 
attached." 

" I know little of the Knight of Ivanhoe," answered 
the Palmer, with a troubled voice. " I would I knew him 
better, since you, lady, are interested in his fate. He 
hath, I believe, surmounted the persecution of his enemies 
in Palestine, and is on the eve of returning to England, 
where you, lady, must know better than I, what is his 
chance of happiness." 

The Lady Rowena sighed deeply, and asked more par- 
ticularly when the Knight of Ivanhoe might be expected 
in his native country, and whether he would not be ex- 
posed to great dangers by the road. On the first point, 
the Palmer professed ignorance ; on the second, he said 
that the voyage might be safely made by the way of 
Venice and Genoa, and from thence through France to 
England. " Ivanhoe," he said, " was so well acquainted 
with the language and manners of the French, that there 
was no fear of his incurring any hazard during that part 
of his travels." 

" Would to God," said the Lady Eowena, " he were 
here safely arrived, and able to bear arms in the ap- 
proaching tourney, in which the chivalry of this land are 
expected to display their address and valour. Should 
Athelstane of Coningsburgh obtain the prize, Ivanhoe 
is like to hear evil tidings when he reaches England. — 
How looked he, stranger, when you last saw him ? Had 
disease laid her hand heavy upon his strength and come- 
liness ? " 

" He was darker," said the Palmer, " and thinner, 



IVANHOE. 105 

than when he came from Cyprus in the train of Coeur- 
de-Lion, and care seemed to sit heavy on his brow ; but 
I approached not his presence, because he is unknown to 
me." 

" He will/' said the lady, " I fear find little in his native 
land to clear those clouds from his countenance. Thanks, 
good Pilgrim, for your information concerning the com- 
panion of my childhood. — Maidens," she said, " draw near 
•—offer the sleeping cup to this holy man, whom I will no 
longer detain from repose." 

One of the maidens presented a silver cup, containing 
a rich mixture of wine and spice, which Rowena barely 
put to her lips. It was then offered to the Palmer, who, 
after a low obeisance, tasted a few drops. 

" Accept this alms, friend," continued the lady, offering 
a piece of gold, " in acknowledgment of thy painful trav- 
ail, and of the shrines thou hast visited." 

The Palmer received the boon with another low rever- 
ence, and followed Edwina out of the apartment. 

In the anteroom he found his attendant Anwold, who, 
taking the torch from the hand of the waiting-maid, con- 
ducted him with more haste than ceremony to an exterior 
and ignoble part of the building, where a number of small 
apartments, or rather cells, served for sleeping places 
to the lower order of domestics, and to strangers of mean 
degree. 

" In which of these sleeps the Jew ? " said the Pil- 
grim. 

" The unbelieving dog," answered Anwold, " kennels 
in the cell next your holiness. — St. Dunstan, how it 
must be scraped and cleansed ere it be again fit for a 
Christian ! " 

" And where sleeps Gurth the swineherd ? " said the 
stranger. 



106 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

" Gurth," replied the bondsman, " sleeps in the cell on 
your right, as the Jew on that to your left ; you serve to 
keep the child of circumcision separate from the abomina- 
tion of his tribe. You might have occupied a more 
honourable place had you accepted of Oswald's invita- 
tion." 

" It is as well as it is," said the Palmer ; " the com- 
pany, even of a Jew, can hardly spread contamination 
through an oaken partition." 

So saying, he entered the cabin allotted to him, and 
taking the torch from the domestic's hand, thanked him, 
and wished him good-night. Having shut the door of 
his cell, he placed the torch in a candlestick made of 
wood, and looked around his sleeping apartment, the 
furniture of which was of the most simple kind. It con- 
sisted of a rude wooden stool, and still ruder hutch or 
bed-frame, stuffed with clean straw, and accommodated 
with two or tliree sheepskins by way of bed-clothes. 

The Palmer, having extinguished his torch, threw 
himself, without taking off any part of his clothes, on 
this rude couch, and slept, or at least retained his recum- 
bent posture, till the earliest sunbeams found their way 
through the little grated window which served at once 
to admit both air and light to his uncomfortable cell. Ho 
then started up, and after repeating his matins, and ad- 
justing his dress, he left it, and entered that of Isaac the 
Jew, lifting the latch as gently as he could. 

The inmate was lying in troubled slumber upon a 
couch similar to that on which the Palmer himself had 
passed the night. Such parts of his dress as the Jew 
had laid aside on the preceding evening, were disposed 
carefully around his person, as if to prevent the hazard 
of their being carried off during his slumbers. There 



IVANHOE. 107 

was a trouble on his brow amounting almost to agony. 
His hands and arms moved convulsively, as if struggling 
with the nightmare ; and besides several ejaculations in 
Hebrew, the following were distinctly heard in the Nor- 
man English, or mixed language of the country : " For the 
sake of the God of Abraham, spare an unhappy old man ! 
I am poor, I am penniless — should your irons wrench my 
limbs asunder, I could not gratify you ! " 

The Palmer awaited not the end of the Jew's vis- 
ion, but stirred him with his pilgrim's staff. The touch 
probably associated, as is usual, with some of the appre- 
hensions excited by his dream ; for the old man started 
up, his grey hair standing almost erect upon his head, 
and huddling some part of his garments about him, 
while he held the detached pieces with the tenacious 
grasp of a falcon, he fixed upon the Palmer his keen 
black eyes, expressive of wild surprise and of bodily 
apprehension. 

" Fear nothing from me, Isaac," said the Palmer, " I 
come as your friend." 

" The God of Israel requite you," said the Jew, greatly 
relieved ; " I dreamed — But Father Abraham be praised, 
it was but a dream." Then, collecting himself, he added 
in his usual tone, " And what may it be your pleasure to 
want at so early an hour with the poor Jew ? " 

" It is to tell you," said the Palmer, " that if you leave 
not this mansion instantly, and travel not with some haste, 
your journey may prove a dangerous one." 

" Holy father ! " said the Jew, " whom could it interest 
to endanger so poor a wretch as I am ? " 

" The purpose you can best guess," said the Pilgrim ; 
" but rely on this, that when the Templar crossed the hall 
yesternight, he spoke to his Mussulman slaves in the 



108 WAYERLET NOVELS. 

Saracen language, which I well understand, and charged 
them this morning to watch the journey of the Jew, to 
seize upon him when at a convenient distance from the 
mansion, and to conduct him to the castle of Philip de 
Malvoisin, or to that of Reginald Front-de-Boeuf." 

It is impossible to describe the extremity of terror 
which seized upon the Jew at this information, and 
seemed at once to overpower his whole faculties. His 
arms fell down to his sides, and his head drooped on his 
breast, his knees bent under his weight, every nerve and 
muscle of his frame seemed to collapse and lose its energy, 
and he sunk at the foot of the Palmer, not in the fashion 
of one who intentionally stoops, kneels, or prostrates him- 
self to excite compassion, but like a man borne down on 
all sides by the pressure of some invisible force, which 
crushes him to the earth without the power of resistance. 

" Holy God of Abraham ! '^ was his first exclamation, 
folding and elevating his wrinkled hands, but without 
raising his grey head from the pavement ; " O holy Moses ! 
O blessed Aaron ! the dream is not dreamed for nought, 
and the vision cometh not in vain ! I feel their ii*ons 
already tear my sinews ! I feel the rack pass over my 
body like the saws, and harrows, and axes of iron over 
the men of Rabbah, and of the cities of the children of 
Ammon ! " 

" Stand up, Isaac, and hearken to me," said the Palmer, 
who viewed the extremity of his distress with a compas- 
sion m which contempt was largely mingled ; " you have 
cause for your terror, considering how your brethren have 
been used, in order to extort from them their hoards, both 
by princes and nobles ; but stand up, I say, and I will 
point out to you the means of escape. Leave this man- 
sion instantly, while its inmates sleep sound after the last 



ITANHOE. 109 

night's revel. I will guide you by the secret paths of the 
forest, known as well to me as to any forester that ranges 
it, and I will not leave you till you are under safe conduct 
of some chief or baron going to the tournament, whose 
good-will you have probably the means of securing." 

As the ears of Isaac received the hopes of escape which 
this speech intimated, he began gradually, and inch by 
inch, as it were, to raise himself up from the ground, until 
he fairly rested upon his knees, throwing back his long 
grey hair and beard, and fixing his keen black eyes upon 
the Palmer's face, with a look expressive at once of hope 
and fear, not unmingled with suspicion. But when he 
heard the concluding part of the sentence, his original 
terror appeared to revive in full force, and he dropt once 
more on his face, exclaiming, " / possess the means of 
securing good-will ! alas ! there is but one road to the 
favour of a Christian, and how can the poor Jew find it, 
whom extortions have already reduced to the misery of 
Lazarus ? " Then, as if suspicion had overpowered his 
other feelings, he suddenly exclaimed, " For the love of 
God, young man, betray me not — for the sake of the 
Great Father who made us all, Jew as well as Gentile, 
Israelite and Ishmaelite — do me no treason. I have not 
means to secure the good-will of a Christian beggar, were 
he rating it at a single penny." As he spoke these last 
words, he raised himself, and grasped the Palmer's mantle 
with a look of the most earnest entreaty. The Pilgrim 
extricated himself, as if there were contamination in the 
touch. 

" Wert thou loaded with all the wealth of thy tribe," 
he said, " what interest have I to injure thee ? — In this 
dress I am vowed to poverty, nor do I change it for aught 
save a horse and a coat of mail. Yet 4hink not that I 



110 WAYERLEY NOVELS. 

care for thy company, or propose myself advantage by it ; 
remain here if thou wilt — Cedric the Saxon may protect 
thee." 

" Alas ! " said the Jew, " he will not let me travel in 
his train — Saxon or Norman will be equally ashamed 
of the poor Israelite ; and to travel by myself through the 
domains of Philip de Malvoisin and Reginald Front-de- 
Boeuf — Good youth, I will go with you ! — Let us haste — 
let us gird up our loins — let us flee ! — Here is thy staff, 
why wilt thou tarry ? " 

" I tarry not," said the Pilgrim, giving way to the 
urgency of his companion ; " but I must secure the means 
of leaving this place — follow me." 

He led the way to the adjoining cell, which, as the 
reader is apprized, was occupied by Gurth, the swine- 
herd. — " Arise, Gurth," said the Pilgrim, " arise quickly. 
Undo the postern gate, and let out the Jew and me." 

Gurth, whose occupation, though now held so mean, 
gave him as much consequence in Saxon England as that 
of Eumaeus in Ithaca, was offended at the familiar and 
commanding tone assumed by the Palmer. " The Jew 
leaving Rotherwood," said he, raising himself on his elbow, 
and looking superciliously at him without quitting his 
pallet, " and travelling in company with the Palmer to 
boot " 

" I should as soon have dreamt," said Wamba, who 
entered the apartment at the instant, " of his stealing away 
with a gammon of bacon." 

" Nevertheless," said Gurth, again laying down his head 
on the wooden log which served him for a pillow, " both 
Jew and Gentile must be content to abide the opening 
of the great gate — we suffer no visitors to depart by 
stealth at these unseasonable hours." 



IVANHOE. Ill 

"Nevertheless," said the Pilgrim, in a commanding 
tone, " you will not, I think, refuse me that favour." 

So saying, he stooped over the bed of the recumbent 
swineherd, and whispered something in his ear in Saxon. 
Gurth started up as if electrified. The Pilgrim, raising 
his finger in an attitude as if to express caution, added, 
'* Gurth, beware — thou art wont to be prudent. I say, 
undo the postern — thou shalt know more anon." 

With hasty alacrity Gurth obeyed him, while Wamba 
and the Jew followed, both wondering at the sudden 
change in the swineherd's demeanour. ^ 

" My mule, my mule ! " said the Jew, as soon as they 
stood without the postern. 

*' Fetch him his mule ! " said the Pilgrim ; " and, hear- 
est thou, — let me have another, that I may bear him com- 
pany till he is beyond these parts — I will return it safely 
to some of Cedric's train at Ashby. And do thou " — he 
whispered the rest in Gurth's ear. 

" Willingly, most willingly shall it be done," said Gurth, 
and instantly departed to execute the commission. 

" I wish I knew," said Wamba, when his comrade's 
back was turned, " what you Palmers learn in the Holy 
Land." 

" To say our orisons, fool," answered the Pilgrim, " to 
repent our sins, and to mortify ourselves with fasting, 
vigils, and long prayers." 

" Something more potent than that," answered the 
Jester; "for when would repentance or prayer make 
Gurth do a courtesy, or fasting or vigil persuade him to 
lend you a mule ! — I trow you might as well have told 
his favourite black boar of thy vigils and penance, and 
wouldst hav^e gotten as civil an answer." 

" Go to," said the Pilgrim, " thou art but a SaxoD 
fooU' 



112 WAYERLET NOVELS. 

" Thou sayest well," said the Jester ; " had I been born 
a Norman, as I think thou art, I would have had luck on 
mj side, and been next door to a wise man." 

At this moment Gurth appeared on the opposite side 
of the moat with the mules. The travellers crossed the 
ditch upon a drawbridge of only two planks' breadth, the 
narrowness of which was matched with the straitness of 
the postern, and with a little wicket in the exterior pali- 
sade, which gave access to the forest. No sooner had 
they reached the mules, than the Jew, with hasty and 
trembling hands, secured behind the saddle a small bag 
of blue buckram, which he took from under his cloak, con- 
taining, as he muttered, " a change of raiment — only a 
change of raiment." Then getting upon the animal with 
more alacrity and haste than could have been anticipated 
from his years, he lost no time in so disposing of the 
skirts of his gaberdine as to conceal completely from 
observation the burden which he had thus deposited en 
croupe. 

The Pilgrim mounted with more deliberation, reaching, 
as he departed, his hand to Gurth, who kissed it with 
the utmost possible veneration. The swineherd stood 
gazing after the travellers until they were lost under the 
boughs of the forest path, when he was disturbed from his 
reverie by the voice of Wamba. 

" Knowest thou," said the Jester, " my good friend 
Gurth, that thou art strangely courteous and most un- 
wontedly pious on this summer morning? I would I 
were a black Prior or a barefoot Palmer, to avail myself 
of thy unwonted zeal and courtesy — certes, I would make 
more out of it than a kiss of the hand." 

" Thou art no fool thus far, Wamba," answered Gurth, 
" though thou arguest from appearances, and the wisest 



IVANHOE. 113 

of US can do no more — But it is time to look after my^ 
charge." 

So saying, he turned back to the mansion, attended by 
the Jester. 

Meanwhile the travellers continued to press on their 
journey with a despatch which argued the extremity of 
the Jew's fears, since persons at his age are seldom fon(^ 
of rapid motion. The Palmer, to whom every path and 
outlet in the wood appeared to be familiar, led the way 
through the most devious paths, and more than once 
excited anew the suspicion of the Israelite, that he 
intended to betray him into some ambuscade of his 
enemies. 

His doubts might have been indeed pardoned ; for, 
except perhaps the flying fish, there was no race existing 
on the earth, in the air, or the waters, who were the 
object of such an unintermitting, general, and relentless 
persecution as the Jews of this period. Upon the slightest 
and most unreasonable pretences, as well as upon accusa- 
tions the most absurd and groundless, their persons and 
property were exposed to every turn of popular fury ; 
for Norman, Saxon, Dane, and Briton, however adverse 
these races were to each other, contended which should 
look with greatest detestation upon a people, whom it was 
accounted a point of religion to hate, to revile, to despise, 
to plunder, and to persecute. The kings of the Norman 
race, and the independent nobles, who followed their 
example in all acts of tyranny, maintained against this 
devoted people a persecution of a more regular, cal- 
culated, and self-interested kind. It is a well-known 
story of King John, that he confined a wealthy Jew in 
one of the royal castles, and daily caused one of his teeth 
to be torn out, until, when the jaw of the unhappy Israelite 

VOL. XVII. 8 



114 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

was half disfurnished, he consented to pay a large sum, 
which it was the tyrant's object to extort from him. The 
little ready money which was in the country was chiefly 
in possession of this persecuted people, and the nobility 
hesitated not to follow the example of their sovereign, in 
wringing it from them by every species of oppression, and 
even personal torture. Yet the passive courage inspired 
by the love of gain, induced the Jews to dare the various 
evils to which they were subjected, in consideration of 
the immense profits which they were enabled to realize in 
a country naturally so wealthy as England. In spite of 
every kind of discouragement, and even of the special 
court of taxations already mentioned, called the Jews' 
Exchequer, erected for the very purpose of despoiling 
and distressing them, the Jews increased, multiplied, and 
accumulated huge sums, which they transferred from one 
hand to another by means of bills of exchange — an in- 
vention for which commerce is said to be indebted to 
them, and which enabled them to transfer their wealth 
from land to land, that when threatened with oppres- 
sion in one country, their treasure might be secured in 
another. 

The obstinacy and avarice of the Jews being thus in a 
measure placed in opposition to the fanaticism and tyranny 
of those under whom they lived, seemed to increase in 
proportion to the persecution with which they were 
visited ; and the immense wealth they usually acquired 
in commerce, while it frequently placed them in danger, 
was at other times used to extend their influence, and to 
secure to them a certain degree of protection. On these 
terms they lived ; and their character, influenced accord- 
ingly, was watchful, suspicious, and timid — yet obstinate, 
uncomplying, and skilful in evading the dangers to which 
they were exposed. 



lYANHOE. 115 

When the travellers had pushed on at a rapid rate 
through many devious paths, the Palmer at length broke 
silence. 

" That large decayed oak," he said, " marks the boun- 
daries over which Front-de-Boeuf claims authority — we 
are long since far from those of Malvoisin. There is now 
no fear of pursuit." 

" May the wheels of their chariots oe taken off," said 
the Jew, " like those of the host of Pharaoh, that they 
may drive heavily ! — But leave me not, good Pilgrim-^ 
Think but of that fierce and savage Templar, with his 
Saracen slaves — ^they will regard neither territory, nor 
manor, nor lordship." 

" Our road," said the Palmer, " should here separate ; 
for it beseems not men of my character and thine to 
travel together longer than needs must be. Besides, what 
succour couldst thou have from me, a peaceful Pilgrim, 
against two armed heathens ? " 

" O good youth," answered the Jew, " thou canst defend 
me, and I know thou wouldst. Poor as I am, I will 
requite it — not with money, for money, so help me my 
Father Abraham, I have none — ^but " 

" Money and recompense," said the Palmer, interrupt- 
ing him, " I have already said, I require not of thee. 
Guide thee, I can ; and, it may be, even in some sort de- 
fend thee ; since to protect a Jew against a Saracen, can 
scarce be accounted unworthy of a Christian. There- 
fore, Jew, I will see thee safe under some fitting escort. 
We are now not far from the town of Sheffield, where 
thou mayest easily find many of thy tribe with whom to 
take refuge." 

" The blessing of Jacob be upon thee, good youth ! " 
said the Jew ; " in Sheffield I can harbour with my kins 



116 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

man Zareth, and find some means of travelling forth with 
safety." 

" Be it so," said the Palmer ; " at Sheffield then we 
part, and half-an-hour's riding will bring us in sight of 
that town." 

The half hour was spent in perfect silence on both 
parts; the Pilgrim perhaps disdaining to address the 
Jew, except in case of absolute necessity, and the Jew, 
not presuming to force a conversation with a person 
whose journey to the Holy Sepulchre gave a sort of 
sanctity to his character. They paused on the top of a 
gently rising bank, and the Pilgrim, pointing to the town 
of Sheffield, which lay beneath them, repeated the words, 
" Here, then, we part." 

" Not till you have had the poor Jew's thanks," said 
Isaac ; " for I presume not to ask you to go with me to 
my kinsman Zareth's, who might aid me with some 
means of repaying your good offices." 

" I have already said," answered the Pilgrim, " that I 
desire no recompense. If, among the huge list of thy 
debtors, thou wilt, for my sake, spare the gyves and the 
dungeon to some unhappy Christian who stands in thy 
danger, I shall hold this morning's service to thee well 
bestowed." 

" Stay, stay," said the Jew, laying hold of his garment ; 
"something would I do more than this, something foi 
thyself. — God knows the Jew is poor — yes, Isaac is tlic 
beggar of his tribe — ^but forgive me should I guess wha 
thou most lackest at this moment." 

" If thou wert to guess truly," said the Palmer, " it i 
what thou canst not supply, wert thou as wealthy as tho? 
sayest thou art poor." 

" As I say ? " echoed the Jew ; " O ! believe it, I sa 



IVANHOE. 117 

but the truth; I am a plundered, indebted, distressed 
man. Hard hands have wrung from me mj goods, my 
money, my ships, and all that I possessed — Yet I can 
tell thee what thou lackest, and, it may be, supply it too. 
Thy wish even now is for a horse and armour." 

The Palmer started, and turned suddenly towards the 
Jew : — " What fiend prompted that guess ? " said he, 
hastily. 

" No matter," said the Jew, smihng, " so that it be 
a true one — and, as I can guess thy want, so I can 
supply it." 

" But consider," said the Palmer, " my character, my 
dress, my vow." 

" I know you Christians," replied the Jew, " and that 
the noblest of you will take the staff and sandal in super- 
stitious penance, and walk afoot to visit the graves of 
dead men." 

" Blaspheme not, Jew," said the Pilgrim, sternly. 

*' Forgive me," said the Jew ; " I spoke rashly. But 
there dropt words from you last night and this morning, 
that, hke sparks from flint, shewed the metal within ; and 
in the bosom of that Palmer's gown, is hidden a knight's 
chain and spurs of gold. They glanced as you stooped 
over my bed in the morning." 

The Pilgrim could not forbear smiling. " Were thy 
garments searched by as curious an eye, Isaac," said he, 
" what discoveries might not be made ? " 

" No more of that," said the Jew, changing colour ; and 
drawing forth his writing materials in haste, as if to stop 
the conversation, he began to write upon a piece of paper, 
which he supported on the top of his yellow cap, without 
dismounting from his mule. When he had finished, he 
delivered the scroll, which was in the Hebrew character 



118 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

to the Pilgrim, saying, " In the town of Leicester all men 
know the rich Jew, Kirjath Jairam of Lombardy ; give 
him this scroll — he hath on sale six Milan harnesses, the 
worst would suit a crowned head — ten goodly steeds, the 
worst might mount a king, were he to do battle for his 
throne. Of these he will give thee thy choice, with 
every thing else that can furnish thee forth for the tour- 
nament; when it is over, thou wilt return them safely — 
unless thou shouldst have wherewith to pay their value 
to the owner." 

" But, Isaac," said the Pilgrim, smiling, " dost thou 
know that in these sports, the arms and steed of the 
knight who is unhorsed are forfeit to his victor ? Now I 
may be unfortunate, and so lose what I cannot replace or 
repay." 

The Jew looked somewhat astounded at this possibility; 
but collecting his courage, he replied hastily, " No — no-^ 
no — It is impossible — I will not think so. The blessing 
of our Father will be upon thee. Thy lance will be 
powerful as the rod of Moses." 

So saying, he was turning his mule's head away, when 
the Palmer, in his turn, took hold of his gaberdine. 
" Nay, but Isaac, thou knowest not all the risk. The 
steed may be slain, the armour injured — ^for I wiU spare 
neither horse nor man. Besides, those of thy tribe give 
nothing for nothing ; something there must be paid for 
their use." 

The Jew twisted himself in the saddle, like a man in a 
fit of the colic ; but his better feelings predominated over 
those which were most familiar to him. " I care not," he 
said, " I care not — let me go. If there is damage, it 
will cost you nothing — if there is usage money, Kirjath 
Jairam will forgive it for the sake of his kinsman Isaac 



IVANHOB. 119 

Fare thee well ! — Yet hark thee, good youth," said he, 
turning about, " thrust thyself not too forward into this 
vain hurly-burly — I speak not for endangering the steed 
and coat of armour, but for the sake of thine own Hfe 
and limbs." 

" Gramercy for thy caution," said the Palmer again 
smiling ; " I will use thy courtesy frankly, and it will go 
bard with me but I will requite it." 

They parted and took different roads for the town of 
Sheffield. 




120 WATERLET NOVELS. 



CHAPTER VII. 

fijilgfats, vrith a long retinue of their squires, 

In gaudy liveries march, and quaint attires ; 

One laced the helm, another held the lance, 

A third the shining huckler did advance. 

The courser paw'd the ground with restless feet, 

And snorting foam'd and champ'd the golden bit. 

The smiths and armourers on palfreys ride, 

Files in their hands, and hammers at their side; 

And nails for loosen'd spears, and thongs for shields provide. 

The yeomen guard the streets in seemly bands ; 

And clowns come crowding on, with cudgels in their hands. 

Palamon and Abciti. 

The condition of the English nation was at this time 
sufficiently miserable. King Richard was absent a pris- 
oner, and in the power of the perfidious and cruel Duke 
of Austria. Even the very place of his captivity was 
uncertain, and his fate but very imperfectly known to the 
generality of his subjects, who were, in the meantime, a 
prey to every species of subaltern oppression. 

Prince John, in league with Philip of France, Coeur- 
de-Lion's mortal enemy, was using every species of 
influence with the Duke of Austria, to prolong the cap- 
tivity of his brother Richard, to whom he stood indebted 
for so many favours. In the meantime, he was strength- 
ening his own faction in the kingdom, of which he 
proposed to dispute the succession, in case of the King's 
death, with the legitimate heir, Arthur Duke of Brittany, 
son of Geoffrey Plantagenet, the elder brother of John, 



rVANHOE. 121 

This usurpation, it is well known, he afterwards effected. 
His own character being light, profligate, and perfidious, 
John easily attached to his person and faction, not only 
all who had reason to dread the resentment of Richard 
for criminal proceedings during his absence, but also the 
numerous class of " lawless resolutes," whom the crusades 
had turned back on their country, accomplished in the 
vices of the East, impoverished in substance, and hard- 
ened in character, and who placed their hopes of harvest 
in civil commotion. 

To these causes of public distress and apprehension, 
must be added, the multitude of outlaws, who, driven to 
despair by the oppression of the feudal nobility, and the 
severe exercise of the forest laws, banded together in 
large gangs, and, keeping possession of the forests and 
the wastes, set at defiance the justice and magistracy of 
the country. The nobles themselves, each fortified within 
his own castle, and playing the petty sovereign over his 
own dominions, were the leaders of bands scarce less 
lawless and oppressive than those of the avowed depre- 
dators. To maintain these retainers, and to support the 
extravagance and magnificence which their pride induced 
them to affect, the nobility borrowed sums of money from 
the Jews at the most usurious interest, which gnawed into 
their estates like consuming cankers, scarce to be cured, 
unless when circumstances gave them an opportunity of 
getting free, by exercising upon their creditors some act 
of unprincipled violence. 

Under the various burdens imposed by this unhappy 
state of affairs, the people of England suffered deeply 
for the present, and had yet more dreadful cause to fear 
for the future. To augment their misery, a contagious 
disorder of a dangerous nature spread through the land ; 



122 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

and, rendered more virulent by the uncleanness, the 
indifferent food, and the wretched lodging of the lower 
classes, swept off many whose fate the survivors were 
tempted to envy, as exempting them from the evils which 
were to come. 

Yet amid these accumulated distresses, the poor as well 
as the rich, the vulgar as well as the noble, m the event 
of a tournament, which was the grand spectacle of that 
age, felt as much interested as the half-starved citizen of 
Madrid, who has not a real left to buy provisions for his 
family, feels in the issue of a bull-fight. Neither duty 
nor infirmity could keep youth or age from such exhibi- 
tions. The Passage of Arms, as it was called, which 
was to take place at Ashby, in the county of Leicester, 
as champions of the first renown were to take the field 
in the presence of Prince John himself, who was expected 
to grace the lists, had attracted universal attention, and 
an immense confluence of persons of all ranks hastened 
upon the appointed morning to the place of combat. 

The scene was singularly romantic. On the verge of a 
wood, which approached to within a mile of the town of 
Ashby, was an extensive meadow, of the finest and most 
beautiful green turf, surrounded on one side by the forest, 
and fringed on the other by straggling oak-trees, some of 
which had grown to an immense size. The ground, as 
ii* fashioned on purpose for the martial display which 
was intended, sloped gradually down on all sides to a 
level bottom, which was enclosed for the lists with strong 
palisades, forming a space of a quarter of a mile in length, 
and about half as broad. The form of the enclosure was 
an oblong square, save that the comers were considerably 
rounded off, in order to afford more convenience to the 
spectators. The openings for the entry of the combatants 



IVANHOE. 123 

were at tbe northern and southern extremities of the 
lists, accessible bj strong wooden gates, each wide enough 
to admit two horsemen riding abreast. At each of these 
portals were stationed two heralds, attended by six trum- 
pets, as many pursuivants, and a strong body of men-at- 
arms for maintaining order, and ascertaining the quality 
of the knights who proposed to engage in this martial 
game. 

On a platform beyond the southern entrance, formed 
by a natural elevation of the ground, were pitched five 
magnificent pavilions, adorned with pennons of russet 
and black, the chosen colours of the five knights chal- 
lengers. The cords of the tents were of the same colour. 
Before each pavilion was suspended the shield of the 
knight by whom it was occupied, and beside it stood his 
squire, quaintly disguised as a salvage or silvan man, or 
in some other fantastic dress, according to the taste of 
his master, and the character he was pleased to assume 
during the game.* The central pavilion,^ as the place of 
honour, had been assigned to Brian de Bois-Guilbert, 
whose renown in all games of chivalry, no less than his 
connexion with the knights who had undertaken this 
Passage of Arms, had occasioned him to be eagerly 
received into the company of the challengers, and even 
adopted as their chief and leader, though he had so 
recently joined them. On one side of his tent were 
pitched those of Reginald Front-de-Boeuf and Richard 
de Malvoisin, and on the other was the pavilion of Hugh 
de Grantmesnil, a noble baron in the vicinity, whose 
ancestor had been Lord High Steward of England in the 
time of the Conqueror, and his son William Rufus. 

* This sort of masquerade is supposed to have occasioned the intro- 
duotion of supporters into the science of heraldry. 



124 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

Ralph de Vipont, a knight of St. John of Jerusalem, 
who had some ancient possessions at a place called 
Heather, near Ashbj-de-la-Zouche, occupied the fifth 
pavilion. From the entrance into the lists, a gentle 
sloping passage, ten yards in breadth, led up to the plat- 
form on which the tents were pitched. It was strongly 
BO(;ured by a palisade on each side, as was the esplanade 
in front of the pavilions, and the whole was guarded by 
men-at-arms. 

The northern access to the lists terminated in a similar 
entrance of thirty feet in breadth, at the extremity of 
which was a large enclosed space for such knights as 
might be disposed to enter the list with the challengers, 
behind which were placed tents containing refreshments 
of every kind for their accommodation, with armourers, 
farriers, and other attendants, in readiness to give their 
services wherever they might be necessary. 

The exterior of the lists was in part occupied by tem- 
porary galleries, spread with tapestry and carpets, and 
accommodated with cushions for the convenience of those 
ladies and nobles who were expected to attend the tourna- 
ment. A narrow space, betwixt these galleries and the 
lists, gave accommodation for yeomanry and spectators 
of a better degree than the mere vulgar, and might be 
compared to the pit of a theatre. The promiscuous mul- 
titude arranged themselves upon large banks of turf 
prepared for the purpose, which aided by the natural 
elevation of the ground, enabled them to overlook the 
galleries, and obtain a fair view into the lists. Besides 
the accommodation which these stations afforded, many 
hundreds had perched themselves on the branches of the 
trees which surrounded the meadow ; and even the steeple 
of a country church, at some distance, was crowded with 
spectators. 



rVANHOE. 125 

It only renfains to notice respecting the general ar- 
rangement, that one gallery in the very centre of the 
eastern side of the lists, and consequently exactly oppo- 
site to the spot where the shock of the combat was to 
take place, was raised higher than the others, more richly 
decorated, and graced by a sort of throne and canopy, on 
which the royal arms were emblazoned. Squires, pages, 
and yeomen in rich liveries, waited around this place of 
honour, which was designed for Prince John and his 
attendants. Opposite to this royal gallery was another, 
elevated to the same height, on the western side of the 
lists ; and more gaily, if less sumptuously decorated, than 
that destined for the Prince himself. A train of pages 
and of young maidens, the most beautiful who could be 
selected, gaily dressed in fancy habits of green and pink, 
surrounded a throne decorated in the same colours. 
Among pennons and flags bearing wounded hearts, burn- 
ing hearts, bleeding hearts, bows and quivers, and all 
the commonplace emblems of the triumphs of Cupid, a 
blazoned inscription informed the spectators that this seat 
of honour was designed for La Royne de la Beaulte et 
des Amours. But who was to represent the Queen of 
Beauty and of Love on the present occasion no one was 
prepared to guess. 

Meanwhile, spectators of every description thronged 
forward to occupy their respective stations, and not with- 
out many quarrels concerning those which they were 
entitled to hold. Some of these were settled by the 
men-at-arms with brief ceremony; the shafts of theii 
battle-axes, and pummels of their swords, being readily 
employed as arguments to convince the more refractory. 
Others, which involved the rival claims of more elevated 
persons were determined by the heralds, or by the two 



126 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

marshals of the field, William de Wjvil, and Stephen 
de Martival, who, armed at all points, rode up and down 
the lists to enforce and preserve good order among the 
spectators. 

Gradually the galleries became filled with knights and 
nobles, in their robes of peace, whose long and rich 
thited mantles were contrasted with the gayer and more 
splendid habits of the ladies, who, in a greater proportion 
than even the men themselves, thronged to witness a 
sport, which one would have thought too bloody and dan- 
gerous to afford their sex much pleasure. The lower 
and interior space was soon filled by substantial yeomen 
and burghers, and such of the lesser gentry, as, from 
modesty, poverty, or dubious title, durst not assume any 
higher place. It was of course amongst these that the 
most frequent disputes for precedence occurred. 

" Dog of an unbeliever," said an old man, whose 
threadbare tunic bore witness to his poverty, as his 
sword, and dagger, and golden chain intimated his pre- 
tensions to rank, — " whelp of a she-wolf ! darest thou 
press upon a Christian, and a Norman gentleman of the 
blood of Montdidier ? " 

This rough expostulation was addressed to no other 
than our acquaintance Isaac, who, richly and even mag- 
nificently dressed in a gaberdine ornamented with lace 
and lined with fur, was endeavouring to make place in 
the foremost row beneath the gallery for his daughter, 
the beautiful Rebecca, who had joined him at Ashby, and 
who was now hanging on her father's arm, not a little 
terrified by the popular displeasure which seemed gen- 
erally excited by her father's presumption. But Isaac, 
though we have seen him sufficiently timid on other occa- 
sions, knew well that at present he had nothing to fear. 



lYANHOE. 12T 

It was not in places of general resort, or where their 
equals were assembled, that any avaricious or malevolent 
noble durst offer him injury. At such meetings the Jews 
were under the protection of the general law ; and if that 
proved a weak assurance, it usually happened that there 
were among the persons assembled some barons, who, for 
their own interested motives, w^ere ready to act as their 
protectors. On the present occasion, Isaac felt more than 
usually confident, being aware that Piince John was even 
then in the very act of negotiating a large loan from the 
Jews of York, to be secured upon ceiiain jewels and 
lands. Isaac's own share in this transaction was consid- 
erable, and he well knew that the Prince's eager desire 
to bring it to a conclusion would ensure him his protec- 
tion in the dilemma in which he stood. 

Emboldened by these considerations, the Jew pursued 
his point, and jostled the Norman Christian, without 
respect either to his descent, quality, or religion. The 
complaints of the old man, however, excited the indigna- 
tion of the bystanders. One of these, a stout well-set 
yeoman, arrayed in Lincoln green, having twelve arrows 
stuck in his belt, with a baldric and badge of silver, and 
a bow of six feet length in his hand, turned short round, 
and while his countenance, which his constant exposure 
to weather had rendered brown as a hazel nut, grew 
darker with anger, he advised the Jew to remember, that 
all the wealth he had acquired by sucking the blood of 
his miserable victims, had but swelled him like a bloated 
spider, which might be overlooked while he kept in a 
corner, but would be crushed if it ventured into the light. 

This intimation, delivered in Norman-English with a 
firm voice and a stern aspect, made the Jew shrink back ; 
and he would have probably withdrawn himself alto- 



128 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

getter from a vicinity so dangerous, had not the attention 
of every one been called to the sudden entrance of Prince 
John, who at that moment entered the lists, attended by 
a numerous and gay train, consisting partly of laymen, 
partly of churchmen, as light in their dress, and as gay 
in their demeanour, as their companions. Among the 
latter was the Prior of Jorvaulx, in the most gallant trim 
which a dignitary of the church could venture to exhibit. 
Fur and gold were not spared in his garments, and the 
points of his boots, out-heroding the preposterous fashion 
of the time, turned up so very far, as to be attached, not 
to his knees merely, but to his very girdle, and effectually 
prevented him from putting his foot into the stirrup. 
This, however, was a slight inconvenience to the gallant 
Abbot, who, perhaps, even rejoicing in the opportunity to 
display his accomplished horsemanship before so many 
spectators, especially of the fair sex, dispensed with these 
supports to a timid rider. ^ The rest of Prince John's 
retinue consisted of the favourite leaders of his mercenary 
troops, some marauding barons and profligate attendants 
upon the court, with several Knights Templars and 
Knights of St. John. 

It may be here remarked, that the knights of these 
two orders were accounted hostile to King Richard, hav- 
ing adopted the side of Philip of France in the long train 
of disputes which took place in Palestine betwixt that 
Mi narch and the lion-hearted King of England. It was 
the well-known consequence of this discord that Richard's 
repeated victories had been rendered fruitless, his romantic 
attempts to besiege Jerusalem disappointed, and the fruit 
of all the glory which he had acquired had dwindled into 
an uncertain truce with the Sultan Saladin. With the 
same pohcy which had dictated the conduct of their breth- 



IVANHOE. 129 

ren in the Holy Land, the Templars and Hospitallers ip 
England and Normandy attached themselves to the fac- 
tion of Prince John, having little reason to desire the 
return of Richard to England, or the succession of Arthur, 
his legitimate heir. For the opposite reason, Prince John 
liated and contemned the few Saxon families of conse- 
quence which subsisted in England, and omitted no 
opportunity of mortifying and affronting them ; being 
conscious that his person and pretensions were disliked 
by them, as well as by the greater part of the English 
commons, who feared farther innovation upon their rights 
and liberties, from a sovereign of John's licentious " and 
tyrannical disposition. 

Attended by this gallant equipage, himself well mounted 
and splendidly dressed in crimson and in gold, bearing 
upon his hand a falcon, and having his head covered by 
a rich fur bonnet, adorned with a circle of precious stones, 
from which his long curled hair escaped and overspread 
his shoulders. Prince John, upon a grey and high-mettled 
palfrey, caracoled within the hsts at the head of his jovial 
party, laughing loud with his train, and eyeing with all 
the boldness of royal cMcism the beauties who adorned 
the lofty galleries. 

Those who remarked in the physiognomy of the Prince 
a dissolute audacity, mingled with extreme haughtiness 
and indifference to the feelings of others, could not yet 
deny to his countenance that sort of comeliness which be- 
longs to an open set of features, well formed by nature, 
modelled by art to the usual rules of courtesy, yet so far 
frank and honest, that they seemed as if they disclaimed 
to conceal the natural workings of the soul. Such an 
expression is often mistaken for manly frankness, when 
in truth it arises from the reckless indifference of a liber- 

VOL. XVII. 9 



130 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

tine disposition, conscious of superiority of birth, of wealth, 
or of some other adventitious advantage, totally uncon- 
nected with personal merit. To those who did not think 
so deeply, and they were the greater number by a hun- 
dred to one, the splendour of Prince John's rheno, (i, e,f 
fur tippet,) the richness of his cloak, lined with the most 
costly sables, his maroquin boots and golden spurs, to- 
gether with the grace with which he managed his palfrey, 
were sufficient to merit clamorous applause. 

In his joyous caracole round the lists, the attention of 
the Prince was called by the commotion, not yet subsided, 
which had attended the ambitious movement of Isaac to- 
wards the higher places of the assembly. The quick eye 
of Prince John instantly recognised the Jew, but was 
much more agreeably attracted by the beautiful daughter 
of Zion, who, terrified by the tumult, clung close to the 
arm of her aged father. 

The figure of Rebecca might indeed have compared 
with the proudest beautieSk of England, even though it 
had been judged by as shrewd a connoisseur as Prince 
John. Her form was exquisitely symmetrical, and was 
shewn to advantage by a sort of Eastern dress, which she 
wore according to the fashion of the females of her na- 
tion. Her turban of yellow silk suited well with the 
darkness of her complexion. The brilliancy of her eyes, 
the superb arch of her eyebrows, her well-formed aquiline 
nose, her teeth as white as pearl, and the profusion of 
her sable tresses which, each arranged in its own little 
spiral of twisted curls, fell down upon as much of a lovely 
neck and bosom as a simarre of the richest Persian silk, 
exhibiting flowers in their natural colours embossed upon 
a purple ground, permitted to be visible — all these con- 
Btituted a combination of loveliness, which yielded not to 



IVANHOE. 131 

the most beautiful of the maidens who surrounded her. 
It is true that of the golden and pearl-studded clasps, 
which closed her vest from the throat to the waist, the 
three uppermost were left unfastened on account of the 
heat, which something enlarged the prospect to which we 
allude. A diamond necklace, with pendants of inestima- 
ble value, were by this means also made more conspicu- 
ous. The feather of an ostrich, fastened in her turban 
by an agriffe set with brilliants, was another distinction 
of the beautiful Jewess, scoffed and sneered at by the 
proud dames who sat above her, but secretly envied by 
those who affected to deride them. 

" By the bald scalp of Abraham," said Prince John, 
" yonder Jewess must be the very model of that perfec- 
tion, whose charms drove frantic the wisest king that 
ever lived ! What sayest thou. Prior Aymer ? — By the 
Temple of that wise king, which our wiser brother 
Richard proved unable to recover, she is the very Bride 
of the Canticles ! " 

" The Rose of Sharon and the Lily of the Valley," — 
answered the Prior, in a sort of snuffling tone ; " but 
your Grace must remember she is still but a Jewess." 

" Ay," added Prince John, without heeding him, " and 
there is my Mammon of unrighteousness too — the Mar- 
quis of Marks, the Baron of Byzants, contesting for place 
with penniless dogs, whose threadbare cloaks have not a 
single cross in their pouches to keep the devil from danc- 
ing there. By the body of St^Mark, my prince of sup- 
plies, with his lovely Jewess, shall have a place in the 
gallery ! — What is she, Isaac ? thy wife or thy daughter, 
that Eastern houri that thou lockest under thy arm as 
thou wouldst thy treasure-casket ? " 

"My daughter Rebecca, so please your Grace," an- 



132 WAVERLET NOYELSl 

Bwered Isaac, with a low congee, nothing embarrassed by 
the Prince's salutation, in which, however, there was at 
least as much mockery as courtesy. 

" The wiser man thou," said John, with a peal of 
laughter, in which his gay followers obsequiously joined, 
*' But, daughter or wife, she should be preferred accord- 
ing to her beauty and thy merits. — Who sits above 
there ? " he continued, bending his eye on the gallery. 
" Saxon churls, lolling at their lazy length ! — out upon 
them ! — let them sit close, and make room for my prince 
of usurers and his lovely daughter. I'll make the hinds 
know they must share the high places of the synagogue 
with those whom the synagogue properly belongs to." 

Those who occupied the gallery to whom this injurious 
and unpolite speech was addressed, were the family of 
Cedric the Saxon, with that of his ally and kinsman, 
Athelstane of Coningsburgh, a personage, who, on ac- 
count of his descent from the last Saxon monarchs of 
England, was held in the highest respect by all the 
Saxon natives of the north of England. But with the 
blood of this ancient royal race, many of their infirmities 
had descended to Athelstane. He was comely in coun- 
tenance, bulky and strong in person, and in the flower of 
his age — ^yet inanimate in expression, dull-eyed, heavy- 
brpwed, inactive and sluggish in all his motions, and so 
slow in resolution, that the sobriquet of one of his an- 
cestors was conferred upon him, and he was very gener- 
ally called Athelstane the Unready. His friends, and he 
had many, who, as well as Cedric, were passionately 
attached to him, contended that this sluggish temper arose 
pot from want of courage, but from mere want of decis- 
ion ; others alleged that his hereditary vice of drunken- 
ness had obscured his faculties, never of a very acute 



IVANHOE. 133 

order, and that the passive courage and meek good- 
nature which remained behind, were merely the dregs 
of a character that might have been deserving of praise 
but of which all the valuable parts had flown off in the 
progress of a long course of brutal debauchery. 

It was to this person, such as we have described him, 
that the Prince addressed his imperious command to 
make place for Isaac and Rebecca. Athelstane, utterly 
confounded at an order which the manners and feelings 
of the times rendered so injuriously insulting, unwilling 
to obey, yet undetermined how to resist, opposed only the 
vis inertice to the will of John ; and, without stirring, or 
making any motion whatever of obedience, opened his 
large grey eyes, and stared at the Prince with an aston- 
ishment which had in it something extremely ludicrous. 
But the impatient John regarded it in no such light. 

"The Saxon porker," he said, "is either asleep or 
minds me not — Prick him with your lance, De Bracy,'* 
speaking to a knight who rode near him, the leader of a 
band of Free Companions, or Condottieri; that is, of 
mercenaries belonging to no particular nation, but at- 
tached for the time to any prince by whom they are paid. 
There was a murmur even among the attendants of 
Prince John ; but De Bracy, whose profession freed him 
from all scruples, extended his long lance over the space 
which separated the gallery from the lists, and would 
have executed the commands of the Prince before Athel- 
stane the Unready had recovered presence of mind suf- 
ficient even to draw back his person from the weapon, 
had not Cedric, as prompt as his companion was tardy, 
unsheathed, with the speed of lightning, the short sword 
which he wore, and at a single blow severed the point of 
the lance from the handle.^ The blood rushed into the 



134 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

countenance of Prince John. He swore one of his 
deepest oaths, and was about to utter some threat corre- 
sponding in violence, when he was diverted from his 
purpose, partly by his own attendants, who gathered 
around him conjuring him to be patient, partly by a gen- 
eral exclamation of the crowd, uttered in loud applause 
of the spirited conduct of Cedric. The Prince rolled his 
eyes in indignation, as if to collect some safe and easy 
victim ; and chancing to encounter the firm glance of the 
same archer whom we have already noticed, and who 
seemed to persist in his gesture of applause, in spite of 
the frowning aspect which the Prince bent upon him, he 
demanded his reason for clamouring thus. 

" I always add my hollo," said the yeoman, " when I 
see a good shot, or a gallant blow." 

" Sayest thou ? " answered the Prince ; " then thou 
canst hit the white thyself, I'll warrant." 

^' A woodsman's mark, and at woodsman's distance, I 
can hit," answered the yeoman. 

" And Wat Tyrrel's mark, at a hundred yards," said a 
voice from behind, but by whom uttered could not be 
discerned. 

This allusion to the fate of William Rufus, his relative, 
at once incensed and alarmed Prince John. He satisfied 
himself, however, with commanding the men-at-arms, 
who surrounded the lists, to keep an eye on the braggart, 
pointing to the yeoman. 

" By St. Grizzel," he added, " we will try his own 
skill, who is so ready to give his voice to the feats of 
others ! " 

" I shall not fly the trial," said the yeoman, with the 
composure which marked his whole deportment. 

" Meanwhile, stand up, ye Saxon churls," said the 



rVANHOE. 135 

fiei-y Prince ; "for, by the light of Heaven, sinc^ I have 
said it, the Jew shall have his seat amongst ye ! " 

" By no means, an it please your Grace ! — it is not fit 
for such as we to sit with the rulers of the land," said 
the Jew ; whose ambition for precedence, though it had 
led him to dispute place with the extenuated and impov- 
erished descendant of the line of Montdidier, by no means 
stimulated him to an intrusion upon the privileges of the 
wealthy Saxons. 

" Up, infidel dog, when I command you," said Prince 
John, " or I will have thy swarthy hide stript off, and 
tanned for horse-furniture." 

Thus urged, the Jew began to ascend the steep and 
narrow steps which led up to the gallery. 

" Let me see," said the Prince, " who dare stop him," 
fixing his eye on Cedric, whose attitude intimated his 
intention to hurl the Jew down headlong. 

The catastrophe was prevented by the clown Wamba, 
who, springing betwixt his master and Isaac, and exclaim- 
ing, in answer to the Prince's defiance, "Marry, that 
will II" opposed to the beard of the Jew a shield of 
brawn, which he plucked from beneath his cloak, and 
with which, doubtless, he had furnished himself, lest the 
tournament should have proved longer than his appetite 
could endure abstinence. Finding the abomination of his 
tribe opposed to his very nose, while the Jester, at the 
same time, flourished his wooden sword above his head, 
the Jew recoiled, missed his footing, and rolled down 
the steps, — an excellent jest to the spectators, who set up 
a loud laughter, in which Prince John and his attendants 
heartily joined. 

" Deal me the prize, cousin Prince/' said Wamba ; 
** I have vanquished my foe in fair fight with sword and 



136 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

Bhield," he added, brandishing the brawn in one hand 
and the wooden sword in the other. 

" Who, and what art thou, noble champion ? " said 
Prince John, still laughing. 

"A fool bj right of descent," answered the Jester; 
" I am Wamba, the son of Witless^ who was the son of 
Weatherbrain, who was the son of an Alderman." 

" Make room for the Jew in front of the lower ring,'* 
said Prince John, not unwilling perhaps to seize an apol- 
ogy to desist from his original purpose ; " to place the 
vanquished beside the victor were false heraldry." 

" Knave upon fool were worse," answered the Jester, 
" and Jew upon bacon worst of all." 

" Gramercy ! good fellow," cried Prince John, " thou 
pleasest me — Here, Isaac, lend me a handful of byzants.'* 

As the Jew, stunned by the request, afraid to refuse, 
and unwilling to comply, fumbled in the furred bag which 
hung by his girdle, and was perhaps endeavouring to 
ascertain how few coins might pass for a handful, the 
Prince stooped from his jennet and settled Isaac's doubts 
by snatching the pouch itself from his side ; and flinging 
to Wamba a couple of the gold pieces which it con- 
tained, he pursued his career round the lists, leaving the 
Jew to the derision of those around him, and himself 
receiving as much applause from the spectators as if ha 
had done some honest and honourable action. 



rVANHOE. 137 



CHAPTER Vni. 

At this the challenger with fierce defy 

His trumpet sounds ; the challenged makes reply : 

With clangour rings the field, resounds the Taulted sky. 

Their visors closed, their lances in the rest, 

Or at the helmet pointed or the crest, 

They vanish from the barrier, speed the race, 

And spurring see decrease the middle space. 

Palamon and Arcttb. 

In the midst of Prince John's cavalcade, he suddenly 
stopt, and appealing to the Prior of Jorvaulx, declared 
the principal business of the day had been forgotten. 

" By my halidom," said he, " we have forgotten. Sir 
Prior, to name the fair Sovereign of Love and of Beauty, 
by whose white hand the palm is to be distributed. For 
my part, I am liberal in my ideas, and I care not if I 
give my vote for the black-eyed Rebecca." 

" Holy Virgin," answered the Prior, turning up his eyes 
in horror, " a Jewess ! — We should deserve to be stoned 
out of the lists ; and I am not yet old enough to be a 
martyr. Besides, I swear by my patron saint, that she 
is far inferior to the lovely Saxon, Rowena." 

^' Saxon or Jew," answered the Prince, " Saxon or 
Jew, dog or hog, what matters it ? I say, name Rebecca, 
were it only to mortify the Saxon churls." 

A murmur arose even among his own immediate 
attendants. 

"This passes a jest, my lord," said De Bracy; "no 



138 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

knight here will lay lance in rest if such an insult is 
attempted." 

" It is the mere wantonness of insult," said one of the 
oldest and most important of Prince John's followers, 
Waldemar Fitzurse, "and if your Grace attempts it, 
cannot but prove ruinous to your projects." 

" I entertained you, sir," said John, reining up his 
palfrey haughtily, " for my follower, but not for my coun- 
sellor." 

" Those who follow your Grace in the paths which you 
tread," said Waldemar, but speaking in a low voice, 
^ acquire the right of counsellors ; for your interest and 
safety are not more deeply engaged than their own." 

From the tone in which this was spoken, John saw the 
necessity of acquiescence. " I did but jest," he said ; 
^ and you turn upon me like so many adders ! Name 
whom you will, in the fiend's name, and please your- 
selves." 

" Nay, nay," said De Bracy, " let the fair sovereign's 
throne remain unoccupied, until the conqueror shall be 
named, and then let him choose the lady by whom it 
shall be filled. It will add another grace to his triumph, 
and teach fair ladies to prize the love of valiant knights, 
who can exalt them to such distinction." 

" If Brian de Bois-Guilbert gain the prize," said the 
Prior, " I will gage my rosary that I name the Sovereign 
of Love and Beauty." 

" Bois-Guilbert," answered De Bracy, " is a good 
lance ; but there are others around these lists. Sir Prior, 
who will not fear to encounter him." 

" Silence, sirs," said Waldemar, " and let the Prince 
assume his seat. The knights and spectators are alike 
impatient, the time advances, and highly fit it is that the 
sports should commence." 



lYANHOE. 139 

Prince John, though not yet a monarch, had in Walde- 
mar Fitzurse all the inconveniences of a favourite 
minister, who, in serving his sovereign, must always do 
so in his own way. The Prince acquiesced, however, 
although his disposition was precisely of that kind which 
is apt to be obstinate upon trifles, and, assuming his 
throne, and being surrounded by his followers, gave 
signal to the heralds to proclaim the laws of the tourna- 
ment, which were briefly as follows : — 

Fii'st, the five challengers were to undertake all comers. 

Secondly, any knight proposing to combat, might, if 
he pleased, select a special antagonist from among the 
challengers, by touching his shield. If he did so with 
the reverse of his lance, the trial of skill was made with 
what were called the arms of courtesy, that is, with lances 
at whose extremity a piece of round flat board was fixed, 
so that no danger was encountered, save from the shock 
of the horses and riders. But if the shield was touched 
with the sharp end of the lance, the combat was under- 
stood to be at outrance ; that is, the knights were to fight 
with sharp weapons, as in actual battle. 

Thirdly, when the knights present had accompHshed 
their vow, by each of them breaking five lances, the 
Prince was to declare the victor in the first day's tour- 
ney, who should receive as prize a war-horse of exqui- 
site beauty and matchless strength ; and in addition to 
this reward of valour, it was now declared, he should have 
the peculiar honour of naming the Queen of Love and 
Beauty, by whom the prize should be given on the en- 
suing day. 

Fourthly, it was announced that, on the second day, 
there should be a general tournament, in which all the 
knights present, who were desirous to win praise, might 



140 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

take part; and being divided into two bands of equal 
numbers, might fight it out manfully, until the signal 
was given by Prince John to cease the combat. The 
elected Queen of Love and Beauty was then to crown 
the knight whom the Prince should adjudge to have borne 
himself best in this second day, with a coronet com- 
posed of thin gold plate, cut into the shape of a laurel 
crown. On this second day^the knightly games ceased. 
But on that which was to follow, feats of archery, of 
bull-baiting, and other popular amusements, were to be 
practised, for the more immediate amusement of the 
populace. In this manner did Prince John endeavour 
to lay the foundation of a popularity, which he was per- 
petually throwing down by some inconsiderate act of 
wanton aggression upon the feelings and prejudices of the 
people. 

The lists now presented a most splendid spectacle. 
The sloping galleries were crowded with all that was 
noble, great, wealthy, and beautiful in the northern and 
midland parts of England ; and the contrast of the va- 
rious dresses of these dignified spectators, rendered the 
view as gay as it was rich, while the interior and lower 
space, filled with the substantial burgesses and yeomen of 
merry England, formed, in their more plain attire, a dark 
fringe, or border, around this circle of brilliant em- 
broidery, relieving, and, at the same time, setting off its 
splendour. 

The heralds finished their proclamation with their 
usual cry of " Largesse, largesse, gallant knights ! " and 
gold and silver pieces were showered on them from the 
galleries, it being a high point of chivalry to exhibit 
liberality towards those whom the age accounted at once 
the secretaries and the historians of honour. The bounty 



IVANHOE. 141 

of the spectators was acknowledged by the customary shouts 
of " Love of Ladies — Death of Champions — Honour to 
the Generous — Glory to the Brave ! " — to which the 
more humble spectators added their acclamations, and a 
numerous band of trumpeters the flourish of their martial 
instruments. When these sounds had ceased, the heralds 
withdrew from the lists in gay and glittering procession, 
and none remained within them save the marshals of the 
field, who, armed cap-a-pie, sat on horseback, motionless 
as statues, at the opposite ends of the lists. Meantime, 
the enclosed space at the northern extremity of the lists, 
large as it was, was now completely crowded with knights 
desirous to prove their skill against the challengers, and, 
when viewed from the galleries, presented the appearance 
of a sea of waving plumage, intermixed with glistening 
helmets, and tall lances, to the extremities of which were, 
in many cases, attached small pennons of about a span's 
breadth, which, fluttering in the air as the breeze caught 
them, joined with the restless motion of the feathers to add 
liveliness to the scene. 

At length the barriers were opened, and five knights, 
chosen by lot, advanced slowly into the area; a single 
champion riding in front, and the other four following in 
pairs. All were splendidly armed, and my Saxon au- 
thority (in the Wardour Manuscript) records at great 
length their devices, their colours, and the embroidery of 
their horse trappings. It is unnecessary to be particular 
on these subjects. To borrow lines from a contemporary 
poet, who has written but too little — 

The knights are dust, 

And their good swords are rust, 

Their souls are with the saints, we trust.* 

♦ These lines are part of an unpublished poem by Coleridge, whose 



142 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

Their escutcheons have long mouldered from the walla 
of their castles. Their castles themselves are but green 
mounds and shattered ruins — the place that once knew 
them, knows them no more — nay, many a race since 
theirs has died out and been forgotten in the very land 
which they occupied, with all the authority of feudal pro- 
prietors and feudal lords. What, then, would it avail the 
reader to know their names, or the evanescent symbols of 
their martial rank ! 

Now, however, no whit anticipating the oblivion 
which awaited their names and feats, the champions ad- 
vanced through the lists, restraining their fiery steeds, 
and compelling them to move slowly, while, at the same 
time, they exhibited their paces, together with the grace 
and dexterity of the riders. As the procession entered 
the lists, the sound of a wild Barbaric music was heard 
from behind the tents of the challengers, where the per- 
formers were concealed. It was of Eastern origin, hav- 
ing been brought from the Holy Land ; and the mixture 
of the cymbals and bells seemed to bid welcome at once, 
and defiance, to the knights as they advanced. With the 
eyes of an immense concourse of spectators fixed upon 
them, the five knights advanced up the platform upon 
which the tents of the challengers stood, and there sepa- 
rating themselves, each touched slightly, and with the 
reverse of his lance, the shield of the antagonist to whom 
he wished to oppose himself. The lower orders of spec- 
tators in general — nay, many of the higher class, and it 
is even said several of the ladies, were rather disappointed 

Muse so often tantalizes with fragments which indicate her powers, 
while the manner in which she flings them from her betrays her 
caprice, yet whose unfinished sketches display more talent than the 
laboured masterpieces of others. 



IVANHOE. 143 

at the champions choosing the arms of courtesy. For the 
same sort of persons, who, in the present day, applaud 
most highly the deepest tragedies, were then interested in 
a tournament exactly in proportion to the danger incurred 
by the champions engaged. 

Having intimated their more pacific purpose, the 
champions retreated to the extremity of the lists, where 
they remained drawn up in a line ; while the challeng- 
ers, sallying each from his pavilion, mounted their 
horses, and, headed by Brian de Bois-Guilbert, de- 
scended from the platform, and opposed themselves indi- 
vidually to the knights who had touched their respective 
shields. 

At the flourish of clarions and trumpets, they started 
out against each other at full gallop ; and such was the 
superior dexterity or good fortune of the challengers, 
that those opposed to Bois-Guilbert, Malvoisin, and 
Front-de-Boeuf, rolled on the ground. The antagonist 
cf Grantmesnil, instead of bearing his lance-point fair 
against the crest or the shield of his enemy, swerved so 
much from the direct line as to break the weapon 
athwart the person of his opponent — a circumstance 
which was accounted more disgraceful than that of being 
actually unhorsed ; because the latter might happen from 
accident, whereas the former evinced awkwardness and 
want of management of the weapon and of the horse. 
The fifth knight alone maintained the honour of his 
party, and parted fairly with the Knight of St. John, 
both splintering their lances, without advantage on either 
side. 

The shouts of the multitude, together with the accla- 
mations of the heralds, and the clangour of the trumpets, 
announced the triumph of the victors and the defeat of 



144 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

the vanquished. The former retreated to their pavilions, 
and the latter, gathering themselves up as they could, 
withdrew from the lists in disgrace and dejection, to 
agree with their victors concerning the redemption of their 
arms and their horses, which, according to the laws of 
the tournament, they had forfeited. The fifth of their 
number alone tarried in the lists long enough to be greeted 
by the applauses of the spectators, amongst whom he re- 
treated, to the aggravation, doubtless, of his companions' 
mortification. 

A second and a third party of knights took the field ; 
and, although they had various success, yet, upon the 
whole, the advantage decidedly remained with the chal- 
lengers, not one of whom lost his seat or swerved from 
his charge — misfortunes which befell one or two of their 
antagonists in each encounter. The spirits, therefore, of 
those opposed to them, seemed to be considerably damped 
by their continued success. Three knights only appeared 
on the fourth entry, who, avoiding the shields of Bois- 
Guilbert and Front-de-Boeuf, contented themselves with 
touching those of the three other knights, who had not 
altogether manifested the same strength and dexterity. 
This politic selection did not alter the fortune of the 
field, the challengers were still successful ; one of their 
antagonists was overthrown, and both the others failed in 
the attaint^* that is, in striking the helmet and shield of 
their antagonist firmly and strongly, with the lance held 
in a direct line, so that the weapon might break unless 
the champion was overthrown. 

After this fourth encounter, there was a considerable 
pause ; nor did it appear that any one was very desirous 

* This term of chivaliy, transferred to the law, gives the phrase of 
being attainted of treason. 



IVANHOE. 145 

of renewing the contest. The spectators murmured among 
themselves ; for, among the challengers, Malvoisin and 
Front-de-Boeuf were unpopular from their characters, and 
the others, except Grantmesnil, were disliked as strangers 
and foreigners. 

But none shared the general feeling of dissatisfaction 
so keenly as Cedric the Saxon, who saw, in each advan- 
tage gained by the Norman challengers, a repeated tri- 
umph over the honour of England. His own education 
had taught him no skill in the games of chivalry, although, 
with the arms of his Saxon ancestors, he had manifested 
himself, on many occasions, a brave and determined sol- 
dier. He looked anxiously to Athelstane, who had learned 
the accomplishments of the age, as if desiring that he 
should make some personal effort to recover the victory 
which was passing into the hands of the Templar and his 
associates. But, though both stout of heart, and strong 
of person, Athelstane had a disposition too inert and un- 
ambitious to make the exertions which Cedric seemed to 
expect from him. 

" The day is against England, my lord," said Cedric, 
in a marked tone ; " are you not tempted to take the 
lance?" 

" I shall tilt to-morrow," answered Athelstane, *' in the 
melee ; it is not worth while for me to arm myself to- 
day." 

Two things displeased Cedric in this speech. It con- 
tained the Norman word melee, (to express the general 
conflict,) and it evinced some indifference to the honour 
of the country ; but it was spoken by Athelstane, whom 
h<3 held in such profound respect, that he would not trust 
himself to canvass his motives or his foibles. Moreover, 
he had no time to make any remark, for Wamba thrust 

VOL. XVII. 10 



146 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

in his word, observing, "It was better, though scarce 
easier, to be the best man among a hundred, than the best 
man of two." 

Athelstane took the observation as a serious compli- 
ment ; but Cedric, who better understood the Jester's 
meaning, darted at him a severe and menacing look ; and 
luckj it was for Wamba, perhaps, that the time and place 
prevented his receiving, notwithstanding his place and 
service, more sensible marks of his master's resentment; 

The pause in the tournament was still uninterrupted, 
excepting hj the voices of the heralds exclaiming — 
" Love of ladies, splintering of lances ! stand forth, gal- 
lant knights, fair eyes look upon your deeds ! " 

The music also of the challengers breathed from time 
to time wild bursts expressive of triumph or defiance, 
while the clowns grudged a holiday which seemed to pass 
away in inactivity ; and old knights and nobles lamented 
in whispers the decay of martial spirit, spoke of the tri- 
umphs of their younger days, but agreed that the land 
did not now supply dames of such transcendent beauty as 
had animated the jousts of former times. Prince John 
began to talk to his attendants about making ready the 
banquet, and the necessity of adjudging the prize to Brian 
de Bois-Guilbert, who had, with a single spear, over- 
thrown two knights, and foiled a third. 

At length, as the Saracenic music of the challengers 
concluded one of those long and high flourishes with 
which they had broken the silence of the lists, it was 
answered by a solitary trumpet, which breathed a note 
of defiance from the northern extremity. All eyes were 
turned to see the new champion which these sounds an- 
nounced, and no sooner were the barriers opened than he 
paced into the lists. As far as could be judged of a man 



IVANHOE. 147 

sheathed in armour, the new adventurer did not greatly 
exceed the middle size, and seemed to be rather slender 
than strongly made. His suit of armour was formed of 
steel, richly inlaid with gold, and the device on his shield 
was a young oak-tree pulled up by the roots, with the 
Spanish word DesdicJiado^ signifying Disinherited. He 
was mounted on a gallant black horse, and as he passed 
through the Hsts he gracefully saluted the Prince and the 
ladies by lowering his lance. The dexterity with which 
he managed his steed, and something of youthful grace 
which he displayed in his manner, won him the favour 
of the multitude, which some of the low^r classes ex- 
pressed by calling out " Touch Ralph de Yipont's shield 
— ^touch the Hospitaller's shield; he has the least sure 
seat, he is your cheapest bargain." 

The champion, moving onward amid these well-meant 
hints, ascended the platform by the sloping alley which 
led to it from the lists, and, to the astonishment of all 
present, riding straight up to the central pavilion, struck 
with the sharp end of his spear the shield of Brian de 
Bois-Guilbert until it rung again. All stood astonished 
at his presumption, but none more than the redoubted 
Knight whom he had thus defied to mortal combat, and 
who, little expecting so rude a challenge, was standing 
carelessly at the door of the pavilion. 

" Have you confessed yourself, brother," said the Temp- 
lar, " and have you heard mass this morning, that you 
peril your life so frankly ? " 

" I am fitter to meet death than thou art," answered the 
Disinherited Knight ; for by this name the stranger had 
recorded himself in the books of the tourney. 

" Then take your place in the lists," said Bois-Guilbert, 
'' and look your last upon the sun ; for this night thou 
?halt sleep in paradise." 



148 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

" Gramercy for thy courtesy/' *replied the Disinherited 
Knight ; " and to requite it, I advise thee to take a fresh 
horse and a new lance, for by my honour you will need 
both." 

Having expressed himself thus conjfidently, he reined 
his horse backward down the slope which he had ascended, 
and compelled him in the same manner to move back- 
ward through the lists, till he reached the northern 
extremity, where he remained stationary, in expectation 
of his antagonist. This feat of horsemanship again 
attracted the applause of the multitude. 

However incensed at his adversary for the precautions 
which he recommended, Brian de Bois-Guilbert did not 
neglect his advice ; for his honour was too nearly con- 
cerned, to permit his neglecting any means which might 
ensure victory over his presumptuous opponent. He 
changed his horse for a proved and fresh one of great 
strength and spirit. He chose a new and a tough spear, 
lest the wood of the former might have been strained in 
the previous encounters he had sustained. Lastly, he laid 
aside his shield, which had received some little damage, 
and received another from his squires. His first had only 
borne the general device of his rider, representing two 
knights riding upon one horse, an emblem expressive of 
the original humility and poverty of the Templars, qual- 
ities which they had since exchanged for the arrogance 
and wealth that finally occasioned their suppression. 
Bois-Guilbert's new shield bore a raven in full flight, 
holding in his claws a skull, and bearing the motto, Gare 
le Corheau. 

When the two champions stood opposed to each other 
ftt the two extremities of the lists, the public expectation 
was strained to the highest pitch. Few augured the 



rVANHOE. 149 

oossibility that the encounter could terminate well for the 
Disinherited Knight, yet his courage and gallantry secured 
the general good wishes of the spectators. 

The trumpets had no sooner given the signal, than the 
champions vanished from their posts with the speed of 
lightning, and closed in the centre of the lists with the 
shock of a thunderbolt. The lances burst into shivers up 
to the very grasp, and it seemed at the moment that both 
knights had fallen, for the shock had made each horse 
recoil backwards upon its haunches. The address of the 
riders recovered their steeds by use of the bridle and 
spur; and having glared on each other for an instant 
with eyes which seemed to flash fire through the bars of 
their visors, each made a demivolte, and, retiring to the 
extremity of the lists, received a fresh lance from the 
attendants. 

A loud shout from the spectators, waving of scarfs and 
handkerchiefs, and general acclamations, attested the in- 
terest taken by the spectators in this encounter ; the most 
equal, as well as the best performed, which had graced 
the day. But no sooner had the knights resumed their 
station, than the clamour of applause was hushed into a 
silence, so deep and so dead, that it seemed the multitude 
were afraid even to breathe. 

A few minutes' pause having been allowed, that the 
combatants and their horses might recover breath, Prince 
John with his truncheon signed to the trumpets to sound 
the onset. The champions a second time#sprung from 
their stations, and closed in the centre of the lists, with 
the same speed, the same dexterity, the same violence, 
but not the same equal fortune as before. 

In this second encounter, the Templar aimed at the 
centre of his antagonist's shield, and struck it so fair and 



150 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

forcibly, that liis spear went to shivers, and the Disin- 
herited Knight reeled in his saddle. On the other hand, 
that champion had, in the beginning of his career, directed 
the point of his lance towards Bois-Guilbert's shield, but, 
changing his aim almost in the moment of encounter, he 
addressed it to the helmet, a mark more difficult to hit, 
but which, if attained, rendered the shock more irresist- 
ible. Fair and true he hit the Norman on the visor, 
where his lance's point kept hold of the bars. Yet, even 
at this disadvantage, the Templar sustained his high repu- 
tation ; and had not the girths of his saddle burst, he 
might not have been unhorsed. As it chanced, however, 
saddle, horse, and man, rolled on the ground under a 
cloud of dust. 

To extricate himself from the stirrups and fallen steed, 
was to the Templar scarce the work of a moment ; and, 
stung with madness, both at his disgrace and at the accla- 
mations with which it was hailed by the spectators, he 
drew his sword and waved it in defiance of his conqueror. 
The Disinherited Knight sprung from his steed, and 
also unsheathed his sword. The marshals of the field, 
however, spurred their horses between them and re- 
minded them, that the laws of the tournament did not, on 
the present occasion, permit this species of encounter. 

" We shall meet again, I trust," said the Templar, 
casting a resentful glance at his antagonist ; " and where 
there are none to separate us." 

" If we do^not," said the Disinherited Knight, " the 
fault shall not be mine. On foot or horseback, with 
spear, with axe, or with sword, I am alike ready to en- 
counter thee." 

More and angrier words would have been exchanged, 
but the marshals, crossing their lances betwixt them, 



lYANHOE. 151 

compelled them to separate. The Disinherited Knight 
returned to his first station, and Bois-Guilbert to his tent, 
where he remained for the rest of the day in an agony of 
despair. 

Without alighting from his horse, the conqueror called 
for a bowl of wine, and opening the beaver, or lower part 
of his helmet, announced that he quaffed it, " To all true 
English heaii:s, and to the confusion of foreign tyrants." 
He then commanded his trumpet to eound a defiance to 
the challengers, and desired a herald to announce to 
them, that he should make no election, but was willing to 
encounter them in the order in which they pleased to 
advance against him. 

The gigantic Front-de-Boeuf, armed in sable armour, 
was the first who took the field. He bore on a white 
shield a black bull's head, half defaced by the numerous 
encounters which he had undergone, and bearing the 
arrogant motto, Cave^ adsum. Over this champion the 
Disinherited Knight obtained a slight but decisive ad- 
vantage. Both Knights broke their lances fairly, but 
Front-de-Bceuf, who lost a stirrup in the encounter, was 
adjudged to have the disadvantage. 

In the stranger's third encounter with Sir Philip 
Malvoisin, he was equally successful ; striking that baron 
so forcibly on the casque, that the laces of the helmet 
broke, and Malvoisin, only saved from falling by being 
unhelmeted, was declared vanquished like his com- 
panions. 

In his fourth combat with De Grantmesnil, the Dis- 
mherited Knight shewed as much courtesy as he had 
hitherto evinced courage and dexterity. De Grantmes- 
nil's horse, which was young and violent, reared and 
plunged in the course of the career so as to disturb the 



152 WAYEKLET NOVELS. 

rider's aim, and the stranger, declining to take the ad- 
vantage which this accident afforded him, raised his 
lance, and passing his antagonist without touching him, 
wheeled his horse and rode back again to his own end of 
the lists, offering his antagonist, by a herald, the chance 
of a second encounter. This De Grantmesnil declined, 
avowing himself vanquished as much by the courtesy as 
by the address of his opponent. 

Ralph de Vipont summed up the list of the stranger's 
triumphs, being hurled to the ground with such force, 
that the blood gushed from his nose and his mouth, and 
he was borne senseless from the lists. 

The acclamations of thousands applauded the unani- 
mous award of the Prince and marshals, announcing that 
day's honours to the Disinherited KJaight. 




ITANHOE. 153 



CHAPTER IX. 



In the midst was seen 



A lady of a more majestic mien, 

By stature and by beauty mark'd their sovereign Queen. 

***** 

And as in beauty she surpass'd the choir, 
So nobler than the rest was her attire ; 
A crown of ruddy gold enclosed her brow, 
Plain without pomp, and rich without a show; 
A branch of Agnus Castus in her hand, 
She bore aloft her symbol of command. 

The Flower and the Leap. 

William de Wyvil and Stephen de Martival, the 
marshals of the field, were the first to offer their congrat- 
ulations to the victor, praying him, at the same time, to 
suffer his helmet to be unlaced, or, at least, that he would 
raise his visor ere they conducted him to receive the 
prize of the day's tourney from the hands of Prince John. 
The Disinherited Knight, with all knightly courtesy, 
declined their request, alleging, that he could not at this 
time suffer his face to be seen, for reasons which he had 
assigned to the heralds when he entered the lists. The 
marshals were perfectly satisfied by this reply; for 
amidst the frequent and capricious vows by which knights 
were accustomed to bind themselves in the days of 
chivalry, there were none more common than those by 
which 'they engaged to remain incognito for a certain 
space, or until some particular adventure was achieved. 



154 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

The marshals, therefore, pressed no farther into the 
mystery of the Disinherited Knight, but, announcing to 
Prince John the conqueror's desire to remain unknown, 
they requested permission to bring him before his 
Grace, in order that he might receive the reward of his 
valour. 

John's curiosity was excited by the mystery observed 
by the stranger ; and, being already displeased with the 
issue of the tournament, in which the challengers whom 
he favoured had been successively defeated by one 
knight, he answered haughtily to the marshals, " By the 
light ot Our Lady's brow, this same knight hath been 
disinherited as well of his courtesy as of his lands, since 
he desires to appear before us without uncovering his 
face. — Wot ye, my lords," he said, turning round to his 
train, " who this gallant can be, that bears himself thus 
proudly ? " 

" I cannot guess," answered De Bracy, " nor did I 
think there had been within the four seas that girth 
Britain a champion that could bear down these fiYe 
knights in one day's jousting. By my faith, I shall never 
forget the force with which he shocked De Yipont. The 
poor Hospitaller was hurled from his saddle like a stone 
from a sling." 

" Boast not of that," said a Knight of St. John, who 
was present ; " your Temple champion had no better 
luck. I saw your brave lance, Bois-Guilbert, roll 
thrice over, grasping his hands full of sand at every 
turn." 

De Bracy, being attached to the Templars, would have 
replied, but was prevented by Prince John. " Silence, 
sirs ! " he said, " what unprofitable debate have . we 
here?" 



IVANHOE. 155 

" The victor," said De Wyvil, " still waits the pleasure 
of your Highness." 

" It is our pleasure," answered John, " that he do so 
wait until we learn whether there is not some one who 
can at least guess at his name and quality. Should he 
remain there till nightfall, he has had work enough to 
keep him warm." 

" Your Grace," said Waldemar Fitzurse, " will do less 
than due honour to the victor, if you compel him to wait 
till we tell your highness that which we cannot know ; 
at least / can form no guess — unless he be one of the 
good lances who accompanied King Richard to Palestine, 
and who are now straggling homeward from the Holy 
Land." 

" It may be the Earl of Salisbury," s^d De Bracy, 
" he is about the same pitch." 

"Sir Thomas de Multon, the Knight of Gilsland, 
rather," said Fitzurse ; " Salisbury is bigger in the 
bones." A whisper arose among the train, but by 
whom first suggested could not be ascertained. " It 
might be the King — ^it might be Richard Coeur-de-Lion 
himself! " 

" Over gods forbode ! " said Prince John, involuntarily 
turning at the same time as pale as death, and shrinking, 
as if blighted by a flash of lightning ; " Waldemar ! — De 
Bracy! brave knights and gentlemen, remember your 
promises and stand truly by me ! " 

" Here is no danger impending," said Waldemar 
Fitzurse ; " are you so little acquainted with the gigantic 
limbs of your father's son, as to think they can be held 
within the circumference of yonder suit of armour ? — 
De Wyvil and Martival, you will best serve the Prince 
by bringing forward the victor to the throne, and ending 



156 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

an error that has conjured all the blood from his cheeks. 
•—Look at him more closely," he continued, " jour high- 
ness will see that he wants three inches of King Rich- 
ard's height, and twice as much of his shoulder-breadth. 
The very horse he backs, could not have carried the 
ponderous weight of King Eichard through a single 
course." 

While he was yet speaking, the marshals brought for- 
ward the Disinherited Knight to the foot of a wooden 
flight of steps, which formed the ascent from the lists to 
Prince John's throne. Still discomposed with the idea 
that his brother, so much injured, and to whom he was 
so much indebted, had suddenly arrived in his native 
kingdom, even the distinctions pointed out by Fitzurse 
did not altogether remove the Prince's apprehensions; 
and while, with a short and embarrassed eulogy upon his 
valour, he caused to be delivered to him the war-horse 
assigned as the prize, he trembled lest from the barred 
visor of the mailed form before him, an answer might be 
returned, in the deep and awful accents of Richard the 
Lion-hearted. 

But the Disinherited Knight spoke not a word in reply 
to the compliment of the Prince, which he only acknowl- 
edged with a profound obeisance. 

The horse was led into the lists by two grooms richly 
dressed, the animal itself being fully accoutred with the 
richest war furniture ; which, however, scarcely added to 
the value of the noble creature in the eyes of those who 
were judges. Laying one hand upon the pommel of the 
saddle, the Disinherited Knight vaulted at once upon the 
back of the steed without making use of the stirrup, and, 
brandishing aloft his lance, rode twice around the lists, 
exhibiting the points and paces of the horse with the skill 
of a perfect horseman. 



lYANHOE. 157 

The appearance of vanity, whicli might otherwise have 
been attributed to this display, was removed by the pro- 
priety shewn in exhibiting to the best advantage the 
princely reward with which he had been just honoured, 
and the Knight was again greeted' by the acclamations of 
all present. 

In the meanwhile, the bustling Prior of Jorvaulx had 
reminded Prince John, in a whisper, that the victor mus^ 
now display his good judgment, instead of his valour, 
by selecting from among the beauties who graced the 
galleries, a lady who should fill the throne of the Queen 
of Beauty and of Love, and deliver the prize of the 
tourney upon the ensuing day. The Prince accordingly 
made a sign with his truncheon, as the Knight passed 
him in his second career around the hsts. The Knight 
turned towards the throne, and, sinking his lance, until 
the point was within a foot of the ground, remained 
motionless, as if expecting John's commands ; while all 
admired the sudden dexterity with which he instantly 
reduced his fiery steed from a state of violent emotion 
and high excitation to« the stillness of an equestrian 
statue. 

" Sir Disinherited Knight," said Prince John, " since 
that is the only title by which we can address you, it is 
now your duty, as well as privilege, to name the fair 
lady, who, as Queen of Honour and of Love, is to 
preside over next day's festival. If, as a stranger in our 
land, you should require the aid of other judgment to 
guide your own, we can only say that Alicia, the daugh- 
ter of our gallant knight Waldemar Fitzurse, has at our 
court been long held the first in beauty as in place. 
Nevertheless, it is your undoubted prerogative to confer 
on whom you please this crown, by the delivery of 



158 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

whicli to the lady of your choice, the election of to- 
morrow's Queen will be formal and complete. — Raise 
your lance." 

The Knight obeyed; and Prince John placed upon 
its point a coronet of green satin, having around its 
edge a circlet of gold, the upper edge of which was 
relieved by arrow-points and hearts placed interchange- 
ably, like the strawberry leaves and balls upon a ducal 
crown. 

In the broad hint which he dropped respecting the 
daughter of Waldemar Fitzurse, John had more than 
one motive, each the offspring of a mind, which was a 
strange mixture of carelessness and presumption with 
low artifice and cunning. He wished to banish from the 
minds of the chivalry around him his own indecent and 
unacceptable jest respecting the Jewess Rebecca ; he was 
desirous of conciliating Alicia's father Waldemar, of 
whom he stood in awe, and w^ho had more than once 
shewn himself dissatisfied during the course of the day's 
proceedings. He had also a wish to establish himself in 
the good graces of the lady ; f6r John was at least as 
licentious in his pleasures as profligate in his ambition. 
But besides all these reasons, he was desirous to raise 
up against the Disinherited Knight (towards w^hom he 
already entertained a strong dislike) a powerful enemy 
in the person of Waldemar Fitzurse, who was likely, he 
thought, highly to resent the injury done to his daughter, 
in case, as was not unlikely, the victor should make 
another choice. 

And so indeed it proved. For the Disinherited Knight 
passed the gallery close to that of the Prince, in which 
the Lady Alicia was seated in the full pride of triumph- 
ant beauty, and, pacing forward as slowly as he liad 



IVANHOE. 159 

* 

hitherto rode swiftly around the lists, he seemed to ex- 
ercise his right of examining the numerous fair faces 
which adorned that splendid circle. 

It was worth while to see the different conduct of the 
beauties who underwent this examination, during the 
time it was proceeding. Some blushed, some assumed an 
air of pride and dignity, some looked straight forward, 
and essayed to seem utterly unconscious of what was 
going on, some drew back in alarm, which was perhaps 
affected, some endeavoured to forbear smiling, and there 
were two or three who laughed outright. There were 
also some who dropped their veils over their charms ; but 
as the Wardour Manuscript says, these were fair ones 
of ten years' standing, it may be supposed, that, having 
had their full share of such vanities, they were willing to 
withdraw their claim, in order to give a fair chance to' 
the rising beauties of the age. 

At length the champion paused beneath the balcony in 
which the Lady E-owena was placed, and the expectation 
of the spectators was excited to the utmost. 

It must be owned, that if an interest displayed in his 
success could have bribed the Disinherited Knight, the 
part of the lists before which he paused had merited his 
predilection. Cedric the Saxon, overjoyed at the dis- 
comfiture of the Templar, and still more so at the mis- 
carriage of his two malevolent neighbours, Front-de- 
Boeuf and Malvoisin, had, with his body half stretched 
over the balcony, accompanied the victor in each course, 
not with his eyes only, but with his whole heart and soul. 
The Lady Rowena had watched the progress of the day 
with equal attention, though without openly betraying the 
same intense interest. Even the unmoved Athelstane 
bad shewn symptoms of shaking off his apathy, when, 



160 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

calling for a huge goblet of muscadine, he quaffed it to 
the health of the Disinherited Knight. ^ 

Another -group, stationed under the gallery occupied 
by the Saxons, had shewn no less interest in the fate of 
the day. 

" Father Abraham ! " said Isaac of York, when the 
first course was run betwixt the Templar and the Disin- 
herited Knight, " how fiercely that Gentile rides ! Ah, 
the good horse that was brought all the long way from 
Barbary, he takes no more care of him than if he were 
a wild ass's colt — and the noble armour, that was worth 
60 many zecchins to Joseph Pareira, the armourer of 
Milan, besides seventy in the hundred of profits, he cares 
for it as little as if he had found it in the highways ! " 

" If he risks his own person and limbs, father," said 
Rebecca, " in doing such a dreadful battle, he can scarce 
be expected to spare his horse and armour." 

" Child," replied Isaac, somewhat heated, " thou knowest 
not what thou speakest — His neck and limbs are his 

own, but his horse and armour belong to Holy Jacob ! 

what was I about to say ! — Nevertheless, it is a good 
youth — See, Rebecca ! see, he is again about to go up to 
battle against the Philistine — Pray, child — pray for the 
safety of the good youth, — and of the speedy horse, and 
the rich armour. — God of my fathers ! " he again ex- 
claimed, " he hath conquered, and the un circumcised 
Philistine hath fallen before his lance, — even as Og the 
King of Bashan, and Sihon, King of the Amorites, fell 
before the sword of our fathers ! — Surely he shall take 
their gold and their silver, and their war-horses, and 
their armour of brass and of steel, for a prey and for a 
spoil." 

The same anxiety did the worthy Jew display during 



IVANHOE. 161 

every course that was run, seldom failing to hazard a 
hasty calculation concerning the value of the horse and 
armour which was forfeited to the champion upon each 
new success. There had been therefore no small interest 
taken in the success of the Disinherited Knight, by those 
who occupied the part of the lists before which he now 
paused. 

Whether from indecision or some other motive of hesi- 
tation, the champion of the day remained stationary for 
more than a minute, while the eyes of the silent audience 
were riveted upon his motions ; and then gradually and 
gracefully sinking the point of his lance, he deposited the 
coronet which it supported, at the feet of the fair Eowena. 
The trumpets instantly sounded, while the heralds pro- 
claimed the Lady Rowena the Queen of Beauty and of 
Love for the ensuing day, menacing with suitable penal- 
ties those who should be disobedient to her authority. 
They then repeated their cry of " Largesse," to which 
Cedric, in the height of his joy, replied by an ample 
donative, and to which Athelstane, though less promptly, 
added one equally large. 

There was some murmuring among the damsels of 
Norman descent, who were as much unused to see the 
preference given to a Saxon beauty, as the Norman 
nobles were to sustain defeat in the games of chivalry 
which they themselves had introduced. But these sounds 
of disaffection were drowned by the popular shout of 
"Long live the Lady Rowena, the chosen and lawful 
Queen of Love and of Beauty ! " To which many in the 
lower area added, " Long live the Saxon Princess ! long 
live the race of the Immortal Alfred ! " 

However unacceptable these sounds might be to Prince 
John, and to those around him, he saw himself neverthe- 

voL. xvn. 11 



162 WAYERLET NOVELS. 

less obliged to confirm the nomination of the victor, and 
accordingly calling to horse, he left his throne ; and 
mounting his jennet, accompanied by his train, he again 
entered the lists. The Prince paused a moment beneath 
the gallery of the Lady Alicia, to whom he paid his 
compliments, observing at the same time, to those around 
him — " By my halidome, sirs ! if the Knight's fea^i in 
arms have shewn that he hath Hmbs and sinews, his 
choice hath no less proved that his eyes are none of the 
clearest." 

It was on this occasion, as during his whole life, John's 
misfortune, not perfectly to understand the characters of 
those whom he wished to conciliate. Waldemar Fitzurse 
was rather offended than pleased at the Prince stating 
thus broadly an opinion, that his daughter had been 
slighted. 

" I know no right of chivalry," he said, " more pre- 
cious or inalienable than that of each free knight to 
choose his lady-love by his own judgment. My daughter 
courts distinction from no one ; and in her own character, 
and in her own sphere, will never fail to receive the full 
proportion of that which is her due." 

Prince John replied not ; but, spurring his horse, as if 
to give vent to his vexation, he made the animal bound 
forward to the gallery where Rowena was seated, with 
the crown still at her feet. 

^'Assume," he said, "fair lady, the mark of your 
sovereignty, to which none bows homage more sincerely 
than ourself, John of Anjou ; and if it please you 
to-day, with your noble sire and friends, to grace our 
banquet in the Castle of Ashby, we shall learn to 
know the empress to whose service we devote to* 
morrow." 



IVANHOE. 163 

Rowena remained silent, and Cedric answered for her 
in his native Saxon. 

"The Lad J Rowena," he said, "possesses not the 
language in which to reply to your courtesy, or to sus- 
tain her part in your festival. I also, and the noble 
Athelstane of Coningsburgh, speak only the language, 
and practise only the manners, of our fathers. We 
therefore decline with thanks your Highnesses courteous 
invitation to the banquet. To-morrow, the Lady Rowena 
will take upon her the state to which she has been called 
by the free election of the victor Knight, confirmed by 
the acclamations of the people." 

So saying, he lifted the coronet, and placed it upon 
Rowena's head, in token of her acceptance of the tem- 
porary authority assigned to her. . 

" What says he ? " said Prince John, affecting not to 
understand the Saxon language, in which, however, he 
was well skilled. The purport of Cedric's speech was 
repeated to him in French. "It is well," he said; "to- 
morrow we will ourself conduct this mute sovereign to 
her seat of dignity. — You, at least. Sir Kiiight," he added, 
turning to the victor, who had remained near the gallery, 
" will this day share our banquet ? " 

The Knight, speaking for the first time, in a low 
and hurried voice, excused himself by pleading fatigue, 
and the necessity of preparing for to-morrow's en- 
counter. 

" It is well," said Prince John, haughtily ; " although 
unused to such refusals, we will endeavour to digest our 
banquet as we may, though ungraced by the most success- 
ful in arms, and his elected Queen of Beauty." 

So saying, he prepared to leave the lists with his 
glittering train, and his turning his steed for that pur- 



164 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

pose, was the signal for the breaking up and dispersion 
of the spectators. 

Yet, with the vindictive memory proper to offended 
pride, especially when combined with conscious want of 
desert, John had hardly proceeded three paces, ere again, 
turning around, he fixed an eye of stern resentment upon 
the yeoman who had displeased him in the early part 
of the day, and issued his commands to the men-at-arms 
who stood near — " On your life, suffer not that fellow to 
escape." 

The yeoman stood the angry glance of the Prince with 
the same unvaried steadiness which had marked his 
former deportment, saying, with a smile, " I have no 
intention to leave Ashby until the day after to-morrow — I 
must see how Staffordshire and Leicestershire can draw 
their bows — the forests of Needwood and Charnwood 
must rear good archers." 

"I," said Prince John to his attendants, but not in 
direct reply, — " I will see how he can draw his own ; and 
wo betide him unless his skill should prove some apology 
for his insolence ! " 

" It is full time," said De Bracy, " that the outrecuid" 
ance * of these peasants should be restrained by some 
striking example." 

Waldemar Fitzurse, who probably thought his patron 
was not taking the readiest road to popularity, shrugged 
up his shoulders and was silent. Prince John resumed 
his retreat from the lists, and the dispersion of the multi- 
tude became general. 

In various routes, according to the different quarters 
from which they came, and in groups of various numbers, 
the spectators were seen retiring over the plain. By 
* Presumption, insolence. 



IVANHOE. 165 

far the most numerous part streamed towards the town 
of Ashby, where many of the distinguished persons 
were lodged in the castle, and where others found 
accommodation in the town itself. Among these were 
most of the knights who had already appeared in the 
tournament, or who proposed to fight there the ensuing 
day, and who, as they rode slowly along, talking over 
the events of the day, were greeted with loud shouts by 
the populace. The same acclamations were bestowed 
upon Prince John, although he was indebted for them 
rather to the splendour of his appearance and train, than 
to the popularity of his character. 

A more sincere and more general, as well as a better- 
merited acclamation attended the victor of the day, 
until, anxious to withdraw himself from popular notice, 
he accepted the accommodation of one of those pavilions 
pitched at th,e extremities of the lists, the use of which 
was courteously tendered him by the marshals of the 
field. On his retiring to his tent, many who had lingered 
in the lists, to look upon and form conjectures concerning 
him, also dispersed. 

The signs, and sounds of a tumultuous concourse of 
men lately crowded together in one place, and agitated 
by the same passing events, were now exchanged for the 
distant hum of voices of different groups retreating in 
all directions, and these speedily died away in silence. 
No other sounds were heard save the voices of the 
menials who stripped the galleries of their cushions and 
tapestry, in order to put them in safety for the night, and 
wrangled among themselves for the half-used bottles of 
wine and relics of the refreshment which had been served 
round to the spectators. 

Beyond the precincts of the lists more than one forge 



166 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

was erected ; and these now began to glimmer through 
the twilight, announcing the toil of the armourers, which 
was to continue through the whole night, in order to 
repair or alter the suits of armour to be used again on 
the morrow. 

A strong guard of men-at-arms, renewed at intervals, 
from two hours to two hours, surrounded the hsts, and 
kept watch during the night. 




IVANHOE. 167 



CHAPTER X. 

Thus, like the sad presaging raven, that tolls 
The sick man's passport in her hollow beak, 
And in the shadow of the silent night 
Doth shake contagion from her sable wings ; 
Vex'd and tormented, runs poor Barabbas, 
With &,tal curses towards these Christians. 

JjEW OP Malta. 

The Disinherited Knight had no sooner reached his 
pavilion, than squires and pages in abundance tendered 
their services to disarm him, to bring fresh attire, and to 
offer him the refreshment of the bath. Their zeal on 
this occasion was perhaps sharpened by curiosity, since 
every one desired to know who the Knight was that had 
gained so many laurels, yet had refused, even at the 
command of Prince John, to lift his visor or to name his 
name. But their officious inquisitiveness was not grati- 
fied. 

The Disinherited Kiiight refused all other assistance 
save that of his own squire, or rather yeoman — a clownish- 
looking man, who, wrapt in a cloak of dark-coloured felt, 
and having his head and face half buried in a Norman 
bonnet made of black fur, seemed to affect the incognito 
as much as his master. All others being excluded from 
the tent, this attendant relieved his master from the more 
burdensome parts of his armour, and placed food and 
wine before him, which the exertions of the day rendered 
^ery acceptable. 



168 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

The Knight had scarcely finished a hasty meal, ere his 
menial announced to him that five men, each leading a 
barbed steed, desired to speak with him. The Disin- 
herited Knight had exchanged his armour for the long 
robe usually worn by those of his condition, which, being 
furnished with a hood, concealed the features, when such 
was the pleasure of the wearer, almost as completely as 
the visor of the helmet itself ; but the twilight, which was 
now fast darkening, would, of itself have rendered a dis- 
guise unnecessary, unless to persons to whom the face of 
an individual chanced to be particularly well known. 

The Disinherited Knight, therefore, stept boldly forth 
to the front of his tent, and found in attendance the 
squires of the challengers, whom he easily knew by their 
russet and black dresses, each of whom led his master's 
charger loaded with the armour in which he had that day 
fought. 

" According to the laws of chivalry," said the foremost 
of these men, "I, Baldwin de Oyley, squire to the re- 
doubted Knight Brian de Bois-Guilbert, make offer to 
you, styling yourself, for the present, the Disinherited 
Knight, of the horse and armour, used by the said Brian 
de Bois-Guilbert in this day's Passage of Arms, leaving 
it with your nobleness to retain or to ransom the same, 
according to your pleasure ; for such is the law of arms." 

The other squires repeated nearly the same formula, 
and then stood to await the decision of the Disinherited 
Knight. 

"To you four, sirs," replied the Knight, addressing 
ihose who had last spoken, " and to your honourable and 
vahant masters, I have one common reply. Commend 
me to the noble knights, your masters, and say, I should 
do ill to deprive them of steeds and arms, which can 



IVANHOE. 169 

never be used by braver cavaliers. — I would I could 
here end my message to these gallant knights ; but being, 
as I term myself, in truth and earnest, the Disinherited, 
I must be thus far bound to your masters, that they will, 
of their courtesy, be pleased to ransom their steeds and 
armour, since that which I wear I can hardly term mine 
own." 

" We stand commissioned, each of us," answered the 
squire of Reginald Front-de-Boeuf, " to offer a hundred 
zecchins in ransom of these horses and suits of armour." 

" It is sufficient," said the Disinherited Knight. " Half 
the sum my present necessities compel me to accept ; of 
the remaining half, distribute one moiety among your- 
selves, sir squires, and divide the other half betwixt the 
heralds and the pursuivants, and minstrels, and attend- 
ants." 

The squires, with cap in hand, and low reverences, ex- 
pressed their deep sense of a courtesy and generosity not 
often practised, at least upon a scale so extensive. The 
Disinherited Knight then addressed his discourse to Bald- 
win, the squire of Brian de Bois-Guilbert. " From your 
master," said he, "I will accept neither arms nor ransom. 
Say to him in my name, that our strife is not ended — no, 
not till we have fought as well with swords as with 
lances — as well on foot as on horseback. To this morfal 
quarrel he has himself defied me, and I shall not forget 
the challenge. — Meantime, let him be assured, that I hold 
him not as one of his companions, with whom I can with 
pleasure exchange courtesies, but rather as one with 
whom I stand upon terms of mortal defiance." 

" My master,'' answered^ Baldwin, " knows how to 
requite scorn with scorn, and blows with blows, as well 
as courtesy with courtesy. Since you disdain to accept 



170 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

from him any share of the ransom at which you have 
rated the arms of the other knights, I must leave his 
armour and his horse here, heing well assured that he 
will never deign to mount the one or wear the other." 

" You have spoken well, good squire," said the Disin- 
herited Knight, " well and boldly, as it beseemeth him to 
speak who answers for an absent master. Leave not, 
however, the horse and armour here. Restore them to 
thy master ; or, if he scorns to accept them, retain them, 
good friend, for thine own use. So far as they are mine, 
I bestow them upon you freely." 

Baldwin made a deep obeisance, and retired with his 
companions ; and the Disinherited Knight entered the 
pavilion. 

" Thus far, Gurth," said he, addressing his attendant, 
" the reputation of English Chivalry hath not suffered in 
my hands." 

" And I," said Gurth, " for a Saxon swineherd, have 
not ill played the personage of a Norman squire-at- 
arms." 

" Yea, but," answered the Disinherited Kjiight, " thou 
hast ever kept me in anxiety lest thy clownish bearing 
should discover thee." 

" Tush r" said Gurth, " I fear discovery from none, 
saving my playfellow, Wamba the Jester, of whom I 
could never discover whether he were most knave or 
fool. Yet I could scarce choose but laugh, when my old 
master passed so near to me, dreaming all the while that 
Gurth was keeping his porkers many a mile off in the 
thickets and swamps of Rotherwood. If I am dis- 
covered " 

"Enough," said the Disuiherited Knight, "thou 
knowest my promise." 



IVANHOE. 171 

" Nay, for that matter," said Garth, " I will never fail 
my friend for fear of my skin-cutting. I have a tough 
hide, that will bear knife or scourge as well as any boar's 
hide in my herd." 

" Trust me, I will requite the risk you run for my 
love, Gurth," said the Knight. " Meanwhile, I pray you 
to accept these ten pieces of gold." 

" I am richer," said Gurth, putting them into his 
pouch, " than ever was swineherd or bondsman." 

" Take this bag of gold to Ashby," continued his 
master, " and find out Isaac the Jew of York, and let 
him pay himself for the horse and arms with which his 
credit supplied me." 

"Nay, by St. Dunstan," replied Gurth, "that I will 
not do." 

" How, knave," replied his master, " wilt thou not 
obey my commands ? " 

" So they be honest, reasonable, and Christian com- 
mands," replied Gurth ; " but this is none of these. To 
suffer the Jew to pay himself would be dishonest, for it 
would be cheating my master ; and unreasonable, for it 
were the part of a fool ; and unchristian, since it would 
be plundering a believer to enrich an infidel." 

" See him contented, however, thou stubborn varlet,** 
said the Disinherited Knight. 

" I will do so," said Gurth, taking the bag under his 
cloak, and leaving the apartment ; " and it will go hard,'* 
he muttered, " but I content him with one-half of his own 
asking." So saying, he departed, and left the Disin- 
herited Knight to his own perplexed ruminations ; which, 
upon more accounts than it is now possible to com- 
municate to the reader, were of a nature peculiarly agi- 
tating and painful. 



172 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

We must now change the scene to the village of Ashby, 
or rather to a country house in its vicinity belonging to a 
wealthy Israelite, with whom Isaac, his daughter, and 
retinue, had taken up their quarters ; the Jews, it is well 
known, being as liberal in exercising the duties of hospi- 
tality and charity among their own people, as they were 
alleged to be reluctant and churlish in extending them to 
those whom they termed Gentiles, and whose treatment 
of them certainly merited little hospitality at their 
hand. 

In an apartment, small indeed, but richly furnished 
with decorations of an Oriental taste, Rebecca was seated 
on a heap of embroidered cushions, which, piled along a 
low platform that surrounded the chamber, served, like 
the estrada of the Spaniards, instead of chairs and stools. 
She was watching the motions of her father with a look 
of anxious and filial affection, while he paced the apart- 
ment with a dejected mien and disordered step ; some- 
times clasping his hands together — sometimes casting his 
eyes to the roof of the apartment, as one who laboured 
under great mental tribulation. " O, Jacob ! " he ex- 
claimed — " O, all ye twelve Holy Fathers of oyr tribe ! 
what a losing venture is this for one who hath duly kept 
every jot and tittle of the law of Moses — Fifty zecchins 
wrenched from me at one clutch, and by the talons of a 
tyrant ! " 

" But, father," said Rebecca, " you seemed to give the 
gold to Prince John willingly." 

" Willingly ? the blotch of Egypt upon him ! — Will- 
ingly, saidst thou ? — Ay, as willingly as when, in the 
Gulf of Lyons, I flung over my merchandise to lighten 
the ship, while she laboured in the tempest — robed the 
seething billows in my choice silks — ^perfumed their briny 



IVANHOE. 173 V 

foam with mjrrh and aloes — enriched their caverns with 
gold and silver work ! And was not that an hour of 
unutterable misery, though my own hands made the 
sacrifice ? " 

"But it was a sacrifice which Heaven exacted to 
save our lives," answered Rebecca, " and the God of 
our fathers has since blessed your store and your get- 
tings." 

" Ay," answered Isaac, " but if the tyrant lays hold on 
them as he did to-day, and compels me to smile while he 
is robbing me ? — 0, daughter, disinherited and wandering 
as we are, the worst evil which befalls our race is, that 
when we are wronged and plundered, all the world laughs 
around, and we are compelled to suppress our sense of 
injury, and to smile tamely, when we would revenge 
bravely." 

" Think not thus of it, my father," said Rebecca ; " we 
also have advantages. These Gentiles, cruel and oppres- 
sive as they are, are in some sort dependent on the dis- 
persed children of Zion, whom they despise and persecute. 
Without the aid of our wealth, they could neither furnish 
forth their hosts in war, nor their triumphs in peace ; and 
the gold which we lend them returns with increase to our 
coffers. We are like the herb which flpurisheth most 
when it is most trampled on. Even this day's pageant 
had not proceeded without the consent of the despised 
Jew, who furnished the means." 

" Daughter," said Isaac, " thou hast harped upon 
another string of sorrow. The goodly steed and the 
rich armour, equal to the full profit of my adventure 
with our Kirjath Jairam of Leicester — there is a dead 
loss too — ay, a loss which swallows up the gains of 
a week ; ay, of the space between two Sabbaths — and 



174 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

yet it may end better than I now think, for 'tis a good 
youth." 

'' Assuredly," said Rebecca, " you shall not repent 
you of requiting the good deed received of the stranger 
knight." 

^ I trust so, daughter," said Isaac, " and I trust too in 
the rebuilding of Zion ; but as well do I hope with my 
own bodily eyes to see the walls and battlements of the 
new Temple, as to see a Christian, yea, the very best of 
Christians, repay a debt to a Jew, unless under the awe 
of the judge and jailer." 

So saying, he resumed his discontented walk through 
the apartment ; and Rebecca, perceiving that her attempts 
at consolation only served to awaken new subjects of com- 
plaint, wisely desisted from her unavailing efforts — a pru- 
dential line of conduct, and we recommend to all who set 
up for comforters and advisers, to follow it in the like cir- 
cumstances. 

The evening was now becoming dark, when a Jewish 
servant entered the apartment, and placed upon the table 
two silver lamps, fed with perfumed oil ; the richest 
wines, and the most delicate refreshments, were at the 
same time displayed by another Israelitish domestic on a 
email ebony table, inlaid with silver ; for, in the interior 
of their houses, the Jews refused themselves no expensive 
indulgences. At the same time the servant informed 
Isaac, that a Nazarene (so they termed Christians, while 
conversing among themselves) desired to speak with him. 
He that would live by traffic, must hold himself at the 
disposal of every one claiming business with liim. Isaac 
at once replaced on the table the untasted glass of Greek 
wine which he had just raised to his lips, and saying has- 
tily to his daughter, " Rebecca, veil thyself," commanded 
the stranger to be admitted. 



lYANHOE. / 175 

Just as Rebecca had dropped oyer her fine features a 
screen of silver gauze which reached to her feet, the 
door opened, and Gurth entered, wrapt in the ample 
folds of his Norman mantle. His appearance was rather 
suspicious than prepossessing, especially as, instead of 
doffing his bonnet, he pulled it still deeper over his rugged 
brow. I 

" Art thou Isaac the Jew of York ? " said Gurth, in 
Saxon. 

" I am," replied Isaac, in the same language, (for his 
traffic had rendered every tongue spoken in Britain fami- 
liar to him,) — ^' and who art thou ? " 

" That is not to the purpose," answered Gurth. 

"As much as my name is to thee," replied Isaac; 
" for without knowing thine, how can I hold intercourse 
with thee ? " 

" Easily," answered Gurth ; " I, being to pay money, 
must know that I deliver it to the right person ; thou, who 
art to receive it, wilt not, I think, care very greatly by 
whose hands it is delivered." 

" O," said the Jew, " you are come to pay moneys ? — 
Holy Father Abraham ! that altereth our relation to each 
other. And from whom dost thou bring it ? " 

" From the Disinherited Knight," said Gurth, " victor 
in this day's tournament. It is the price of the armour 
supplied to him by Kirjath Jairam of Leicester, on thy 
recommendation. The steed is restored to thy stable : I 
desire to know the amount of the sum which I am to pay 
for the armour." 

" I said he was a good youth ! " exclaimed Isaac with 
joyful exultation. " A cup of wine will do thee no 
harm," he added, filling and handing to the swineherd a 
richer draught than Gurth had ever before tasted. " And 



176 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

how much money," continued Isaac, " hast thou brought 
with thee ? " 

" Holy Yirgin," said Gurth, setting down the cup, 
'^ what nectar these unbeheving dogs drink, while true 
Christians are fain to quaff ale as muddy and thick as 
the draff we give to hogs ! — What money have I brought 
with me," continued the Saxon, when he had finished this 
uncivil ejaculation, " even but a small sum ; something in 
hand the whilst. What, Isaac ! thou must bear a con- 
science, though it be a Jewish one." 

" Nay, but," said Isaac, " thy master has won goodly 
steeds and rich armours with the strength of his lance, 
and of his right hand — but 'tis a good youth — ^the Jew 
will take these in present payment, and render him back 
the surplus." 

" My master has disposed of them already," said 
Gurth. 

" Ah ! that was wrong," said the Jew, " that was the 
part of a fool. No Christians here could buy so many 
horses and armour — ^no Jew except myself would give 
him half the values. But thou hast a hundred zecchins 
with thee in that bag," said Isaac, prying under Gurth's 
cloak, " it is a heavy one." 

" I have heads for cross-bow bolts in it," said Gurth, 
readily. 

" Well, then " — said Isaac, panting and hesitating be- 
tween habitual love of gain, and a new-born desire to be 
hberal in the present instance, " if I should say that I 
would take eighty zecchins for the good steed and rich 
armour, which leaves me not a guilder's profit, have you 
money to pay me ? " 

" Barely," said Gurth, though the sum demanded was 
more reasonable than he expected, " and it will leave my 



lYANHOE. 177 

master nigli penniless. Nevertheless, if such be your 
least offer, I must be content." 

" Fill thyself another goblet of wine," said the Jew. 
" Ah ! eighty zecchins is too little. It leaveth no profit 
for the usages of the money ; and, besides, the good horse 
may have suffered wrong in this day's encounter. O, it 
was a hard and danojerous meetinoj ! man and steed rush- 
ing on each other like wild bulls of Bashan ! The horse 
cannot but have had wrong." 

"And I say," replied Gurth, "he is sound, wind and 
limb ; and you may see him now, in your stable. And I 
say, over and above, that seventy zecchins is enough for 
the armour, and I hope a Christian's word is as good as 
a Jew's. If you will not take seventy, I will carry this 
bag," (and he^shook it till the contents jingled) " back to 
my master." 

" Nay, nay ! " said Isaac, " lay down the talents — the 
shekels — the eighty zecchins, and thou shalt see I will 
consider thee liberally." 

Gurth at length complied ; and telling out eighty 
zecchins upon the table, the Jew delivered out to him an 
acquittance for the horse and suit of armour. The Jew's 
hand trembled for joy as he wrapped up the first seventy 
pieces of gold. The last ten he told over with much 
dehberation, pausing, and saying something as he took 
each piece from the table, and dropped it into his purse. 
It seemed as if his avarice were struggling with his bet- 
ter nature, and compelling him to pouch zecchin after 
zecchin, while his generosity urged him to restore some 
part at least to his benefactor, or as a donation to his 
agent. His whole speech ran nearly thus : — 

" Seventy-one — seventy-two ; thy master is a good 
youth — seventy-three, an excellent youth — seventy-four 
VOL. xvn. 12 



178 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

— that piece hath been dipt within the ring — seventy-five 
•—and that looketh light of weight — seventy-six — when 
thy master wants money, let him come to Isaac of York — • 
seventy-seven — that is, with reasonable security." Here 
he made a considerable pause, and Gurth had good hope 
that the last three pieces might escape the fate of their 
comrades ; but the enumeration proceeded. — " Seventy- 
eight — thou art a good fellow — seventy-nine — and de- 
servest something for thyself " 

Here the Jew paused again, and looked at the last 
zecchin, intending, doubtless, to bestow it upon Gurth. 
He weighed it upon the tip of his finger, and made it 
ring by dropping it upon the table. Had it rung too flat, 
or had it felt a hair's breadth too light, generosity had 
carried the day ; but, unhappily for Gurth, the chime was 
full and true, the zecchin plump, newly coined, and a 
grain above weight. Isaac could not find in his heart to 
part with it, so dropt it into his purse as if in absence of 
mind, with the words, " Eighty completes the tale, and I 
trust thy master will reward thee handsomely. — Surely," 
'he added, looking earnestly at the bag, " thou hast more 
coins in that pouch ? " 

Gurth grinned, which was his nearest approach to a 
laugh, as he replied, " About the same quantity which 
thou hast just told over so carefully." He then folded 
the acquittance, and put it under his cap, adding, — " Peill 
of thy beard, Jew, see that this be full and ample ! " He 
filled himself unbidden a third goblet of wine, and left the 
apartment without ceremony. 

" Rebecca," said the Jew, " that Ishmaelite hath gone 
somewhat beyond me. Nevertheless his master is a good 
youth — ay, and I am well pleased that he hath gained 
shekels of gold, and shekels of silver, even by the speed 



lYANHOE. 179 

of his horse and by the strength of his lance, which, like 
that of Goliath the Philistine, might vie with a weaver's 
beam." 

As he turned to receive Rebecca's answer, he observed, 
that during his chaffering with Gurth, she had left the 
apartment unperceived. 

In the meanwhile, Gurth had descended the stair, and, 
having reached the dark antechamber, or hall, was 
puzzling about to discover the entrance, when a figure 
in white, shewn by a small silver lamp which she held in 
her hand, beckoned him into a side apartment. Gurth 
had some reluctance to obey the summons. Rough and 
impetuous as a wild boar, where only earthly force was 
to be apprehended, he had all the characteristic terrors 
of a Saxon respecting fawns, forest-fiends, white women, 
and the whole of the superstitions which his ancestors had 
brought with them from the wilds of Germany. He 
remembered, moreover, that he was in the house of a 
Jew, a people who, besides the other unamiable qualities 
which popular report ascribed to them, were supposed ib 
be profound necromancers and cabalists. Nevertheless, 
after a moment's pause, he obeyed the beckoning sum- 
mons of the apparition, and followed her into the apart- 
ment which she indicated, where he found to his joyful 
surprise that his fair guide was the beautiful Jewess 
whom he had seen at the tournament, and a short time 
in her father's apartment. 

She asked him the particulars of his transaction with 
Isaac, which he detailed accurately. 

" My father did but jest with thee, good fellow," said 
Rebecca ; " he owes thy master deeper kindness than 
these arms and steeds could pay, were their value tenfold. 
What sum didst thou pay my father even now ? " 



180 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

'^ Eighty zecchins " said Gurth, surprised at the ques* 
tion. 

" In this purse," said Eebecca, " thou wilt find a hun- 
dred. Restore to thy master that which is his due, and 
enrich thyself with the remainder. Haste — begone, stay 
not to render thanks ! and beware how you pass through 
this crowded town, where thou mayst easily lose both thy 
burden and thy life. — Eeuben," she added, clapping her 
hands together, " light forth this stranger, and fail not to 
draw lock and bar behind him." 

Eeuben, a dark-brow'd and black-bearded Israehte, 
obeyed her summons, with a torch in his hand ; undid 
the outward door of the house, and conducted Gurth 
across a paved court, let him out through a wicket in the 
entrance-gate, which he closed behind him with such bolts 
and chains as would well have become that of a prison. 

" By St. Dunstan," said Gurth, as he stumbled up the 
dark avenue, "this is no Jewess, but an angel from 
heaven ! Ten zecchins from my brave young master- 
twenty from this pearl of Zion — Oh, happy day ! — Such 
another, Gurth, will redeem thy bondage, and make thee 
a brother as free of thy guild as the best. And then do 
I lay down my swineherd's horn and staff, and take the 
freeman's sword and buckler, and follow my young mas- 
ter to the death, without hiding either my face or my 
name." 



rVAUHOB. 181 



CHAPTER XI. 



1st Outlaw. — Stand, sir, and throw us that you have about yon; 
If not, we'll make you sit, and rifle you. 

Speed. — Sir. we are undone ! these are the Tlllams 
That all the travellers do fear so much. 

Val. — My friends, 

1st Out. — That's not so, sir, we are your enemies. 

2d Out. — Peace ! well hear him. 

Sd Out. — Ay, by my beard, will we ; 
For he's a proper man. 

Two Gentlemen op Vesona. 

The nocturnal adventures of Gurth were not yet con- 
cluded ; indeed, he himself became partly of that mind, 
when, after passing one or two straggling houses which 
stood in the outskirts of the village, he found himself in 
a deep lane, running between two banks overgrown with 
hazel and holly, while here and there a dwarf oak flung 
its arms altogether across the path. The lane was more- 
over much rutted and broken up by the carriages which 
had recently transported articles of various kinds to the 
tournament ; and it was dark, for the banks and bushes 
intercepted the light of the harvest moon. 

From the village were heard the distant sounds of 
revelry, mixed occasionally with loud laughter, sometimes 
broken by screams, and sometimes by wild strains of dis- 
tant music. All these sounds, intimating the disorderly 
state of the town, crowded with military nobles and their 
iissolute attendants, gave Gurth some uneasiness. " The 



182 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

Jewess was right," he said to himself. " By Heaven and 
St. Dunstan, I would I were safe at my journey's end 
with all this treasure ! Here are such numbers, I will 
not say of arrant thieves, but of errant knights and errant 
squires, errant monks and errant minstrels, errant jugglers 
and errant jesters, that a man with a single merk would 
be in danger, much more a poor swineherd with a whole 
bagful of zecchins. Would I were out of the shade of 
these infernal bushes, that I might at least see any of St. 
Nicholas's clerks before they spring on my shoulders." 

Gurth accordingly hastened his pace, in order to gain 
the open common to which the lane led, but was not so 
fortunate as to accomplish his object. Just as he had 
attained the upper end of the lane, where the underwood 
was thickest, four men sprung upon him, even as his fears 
anticipated, two from each side of the road, and seized 
him so fast, that resistance, if at first practicable, would 
have been now too late. — " Surrender your charge," said 
one of them ; '' we are the deliverers of the common- 
wealth, who ease every man of his burden." 

" You should not ease me of mine so lightly," muttered 
Gurth, whose surly honesty could not be tamed even by 
the pressure of immediate violence, — " had I it but in 
my power to give three strokes in its defence." 

" We shall see that presently," said the robber ; and, 
speaking to his companions, he added, " bring along the 
knave. I see he would have his head broken, as well 
as Lis purse cut, and so be let blood in two veins at 
once." 

Gurth was hurried along agreeably to this mandate, 
and having been dragged somewhat roughly over the 
bank, on the left-hand side of thd lane, found himself in 
a straggling thicket, which lay betwixt it and the open 



lYANHOE. 183 

common. He was compelled to follow his rough con- 
ductors into the very depth of this cover, where they 
stopt unexpectedly in an irregular open space, free in a 
great measure from trees, and on which, therefore, the 
beams of the moon fell without much interruption from 
boughs and leaves. Here his captors were joined by 
two other persons apparently belonging to the gang. 
They had short swords by their sides, and quarter-staves 
in their hands, and Gurth could now observe that all six 
wore visors, which rendered their occupation a matter of 
no question, even had their former proceedings left it in 
doubt. 

" What money hast thou, churl ? " said one of the 
thieves. 

' " Thirty zecchins of my own property," answered 
Gurth, doggedly. 

" A forfeit — a forfeit," shouted the robbers ; " a Saxon 
hath thirty zecchins, and returns sober from a village ! 
An undeniable and unredeemable forfeit of all he hath 
about him." 

" I hoarded it to purchase my freedom," said Gurth. 

" Thou art an ass," replied one of the thieves ; " three 
quarts of double ale had rendered thee as free as thy 
master, ay, and freer too, if he be a Saxon like thyself." 

" A sad truth," replied Gurth ; " but if these same 
thirty zecchins will buy my freedom from you, unloose 
my hands, and I will pay them to you." 

" Hold," said one who seemed to exercise some author- 
ity over the others ; " this bag which thou bearest, as I 
can feel through thy cloak, contains more coin than thou 
hast told us of." 

" It is the good knight my master's," answered Gurth, 
" of which, assuredly, I would not have spoken a word. 



184 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

had jou been satisfied with working your will upon mine 
own property." 

" Thou art an honest fellow," replied the robber, " I 
warrant thee; and we worship not St. Nicholas so 
devoutly but what thy thirty zecchins may yet escape, if 
thou deal uprightly with us. Meantime render up thy 
trust for the time." So saying, he took from Gurth's 
breast the large leathern pouch, in which the purse given 
him by Rebecca was enclosed, as well as the rest of the 
zecchins, and then continued his interrogation. — " Who 
is thy master ? " 

" The Disinherited Knight," said Gurth. 

" Whose good lance," replied the robber, " won the 
prize in to-day's tourney ? What is his name and 
lineage ? " 

"It is his pleasure," answered Gurth, " that they be 
concealed ; and from me, assuredly, you will learn nought 
of them." 

" What is thine own name and lineage ? " 

"To tell that," said Gurth, "might reveal my mas- 
ter's." 

" Thou art a saucy groom," said the robber, " but of 
that anon. How comes thy master by this gold? is it 
of his inheritance, or by what means hath, it accrued to 
him?" 

" By his good lance," answered Gurth. — " These bags 
contain the ransom of fouc good horses, and four good 
suits of armour." 

" How much is there ? " demanded the robber. 

" Two hundred zecchins." 

" Only two hundred zecchins ! " said the bandit ; " your 
master hath dealt liberally by the vanquished, and put 
them to a cheap ransom. Name those who paid the 
gold." 



IVANHOE. 185 

Gurth did so. 

" The armour and horse of the Templar Brian de 
Bois-Guilbert, at what ransom were they held ? — Thou 
seest thou canst not deceive me." 

" Mj master," replied Gurth, " will take nought from 
the Templar save his life's blood. They are on terms of 
mortal defiance, and cannot hold courteous intercourse 
together." 

" Indeed ! " — repeated the robber, and paused after he 
had said the word. " And what wert thou now doing at 
Ashby with such a charge in thy custody ? " 

" I went thither to render to Isaac the Jew of York/' 
replied Gurth, "the price of a suit of armour with 
which he fitted my master for this tournament." 

" And how much didst thou pay to Isaac ? — Methinks, 
to judge by weight, there is still two hundred zecchins in 
that pouch." 

" I paid to Isaac," said the Saxon, " eighty zecchins, 
and he restored me a hundred in lieu thereof." 

" How ! what ! " exclaimed all the robbers at once ; 
" darest thou trifle with us, that thou tellest such improb- 
able lies?" 

" What I tell you," said Gurth, " is as true as the 
moon is in heaven. You will find the just sum in a 
silken purse within the leathern pouch, and separate from 
the rest of the gold." 

" Bethink thee, man," said the Captain, " thou speakest 
of a Jew — of an Israelite, — as unapt to restore gold as 
the dry sand of his deserts to return the cup of water 
which the pilgrim spills upon them." 

" There is no more mercy in them," said another of 
the banditti, " than in an unbribed sheriff's ofiicer." 

" It is, however, as I say," said Gurth. 



186 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

" Strike a light instantly," said the Captain ; " I will 
examine this said purse ; and if it be as this fellow says, 
the Jew's bounty is little less miraculous than the stream 
which relieved his fathers in the wilderness." 

A light was procured accordingly, and the robber pro- 
ceeded to examine the purse. The others crowded around 
him, and even two who had hold of Gurth relaxed their 
grasp while they stretched their necks to see the issue of 
the search. Availing himself of their negligence, by a 
sudden exertion of strength and activity, Gurth shook 
himself free of their hold, and might have escaped, could 
he . have resolved to leave his master's property behind 
him. But such was no part of his intention. He wrenched 
a quarter-staff from one of the fellows, struck down the 
captain, who was altogether unaware of his purpose, and 
had well-nigh repossessed himself of the pouch and 
treasure. The thieves, however, were too nimble for 
him, and again secured both the bag and the trusty 
Gurth. 

" Knave ! " said the Captain, getting up, " thou hast 
broken my head ; and with other men of our sort thou 
wouldst fare the worse for thy insolence. But thou shalt 
know thy fate instantly. First let us speak of thy 
master ; the knight's matters must go before the squire's, 
according to the due order of chivalry. Stand thou fast 
in the meantime — if thou stir again, thou shalt have that 
will make thee quiet for thy life — Comrades ! " he then 
said, addressing his gang, "this purse is embroidered 
with Hebrew characters, and I well believe the yeoman's 
tale is true. The errant knight, his master, must needs 
pass us toll-free. He is too like ourselves for us to make 
booty of him, since dogs should not worry dogs where 
wolves and foxes are to be found in abundance." 



IVANHOE. 187 

"Like us?" answered one of the gang; "I should 
like to hear how that is made good." 

" Why, thou fool," answered the Captain, " is he not 
poor and disinherited as we are ? — Doth he not win his 
substance at the sword's point as we do ? — Hath he not 
beaten Front-de-Boeuf and Malvoisin, even as we would 
beat them if we could ? Is he not the enemy to Hfe and 
death of Brian de Bois-Guilbert, whom we have so much 
reason to fear? And were all this otherwise, wouldst 
thou have us shew a worse conscience than an unbeliever, 
a Hebrew Jew ? " 

" Nay, that were a shame," muttered the other fellow ; 
" and yet, when I served in the band of stout old Gande- 
lyn, we had no such scruples of conscience. And this 
insolent peasant, — he too, I warrant me, is to be dismissed 
scatheless ? " 

" Not if thou canst scathe him," replied the Captain. — 
" Here, fellow," continued he, addressing Gurth, " canst 
Ijiou use the staff, that thou starts to it so readily ? " 

" I think," said Gurth, " thou shouldst be best able to 
reply to that question." 

" Nay, by my troth, thou gavest me a round knock," 
replied the Captain ; " do as much for this fellow, and 
thou shalt pass scot-free ; and if thou dost not — why, by 
my faith, as thou art such a sturdy knave, I think I must 
pay thy ransom myself. — Take thy staff. Miller," he 
added, " and keep thy head ; and do you others let the 
fellow go, and give him a staff — there is light enough to 
lay on load by." 

The two champions being alike armed with quarter 
staves, stepped forward into the centre of the open space, 
in order to have the full benefit of the moonlight : the 
thieves, in the meantime laughing, and crying to their 



188 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

comrade, "Miller! beware thy toll-dish." The Miller, 
on the other hand, holding his quarter-staff bj the mid- 
die, and making it flourish round his head after the fash- 
ion which the French call faire le moulinet^ exclaimed 
boastfully, " Come on, churl, an thou darest : thou shalt 
feel the strength of a miller's thumb ! " 

" If thou be'st a miller," answered Gurth, undauntedly, 
making his weapon play around his head with equal 
dexterity, " thou art doubly a thief, and I, as a true man, 
bid thee defiance." 

So saying, the two champions closed together, and for 
a few minutes they displayed great equality in strength, 
courage, and skill, intercepting and returning the blows 
of their adversary with the most rapid dexterity, while, 
from the continued clatter of their weapons, a person at 
a distance might have supposed that there were at least 
six persons engaged on each side. Less obstinate, and 
even, less dangerous combats, have been described in good 
heroic verse; but that of Gurth and the Miller must 
remain unsung, for want of a sacred poet to do justice to 
its eventful progress. Yet, though quarter-staff play be 
out of date, what we can in prose we will do for these 
bold champions. 

Long they fought equally, until the Miller began to 
lose temper at finding himself so stoutly opposed, and at 
hearing the laughter of his companions, who, as usual in 
such cases, enjoyed his vexation. This was not a state 
of mind favourable to the noble game of quarter-staff, in 
which, as in ordinary cudgel-playing, the utmost coolness 
is requisite ; and it gave Gurth, whose temper was 
steady, though surly, the opportunity of acquiring a 
decided advantage, in availing himself of which he dis- 
played great mastery. 



I^ANHOE. 189 

The Miller pressed furiously forward, dealing blows 
with either end of his weapon alternately, and striving tc 
come to half-staff distance, while Gurth defended himself 
against the attack, keeping his hands about a yard 
asunder, and covering himself by shifting his weapon 
with great celerity, so as to protect his head and body. 
Thus did he maintain the defensive, making his eye, foot, 
and hand keep true time, until, observing his antagonist 
to lose wind, he darted the staff at his face with his left 
hand ; and, as the Miller endeavoured to parry the thrust, 
he slid his right hand down to his left, and with the full 
swing of the weapon struck his opponent on the left side 
of the head, who instantly measured his length upon the 
greensward. 

" Well and yeomanly done ! " shouted the robbers ; 
" fair play and Old England for ever ! The Saxon hath 
saved both his purse and his hide, and the Miller has met 
his match." 

" Thou mayst go thy ways, my friend," said the Cap- 
tain, addressing Gurth, in special confirmation of the 
general voice, " and I will cause two of my comrades to 
guide thee by the best way to thy master's pavilion, and to 
guard thee from night-walkers that might have less tender 
consciences than ours ; for there is many one of them 
upon the amble in such a night as this. Take heed, 
however," he added sternly ; " remember thou hast 
refused to tell thy name — ask not after ours, nor endeav- 
our to discover who or what we are ; for, if thou makest 
such an attempt, thou wilt come by worse fortune than 
has yet befallen thee." 

Gurth thanked the Captain for his courtesy, and prom- 
ised to attend to his recommendation. Two of the out- 
laws, taking up their quarter-staves, and desiring Gurth 



190 WAVERLEY HOVELS. 

to follow close in the rear, walked roundly forward along 
a bj-path, whieli traversed the thicket and the broken 
ground adjacent to it. On the very verge of the thicket 
two men spoke to his conductors, and receiving an an- 
swer in a whisper, withdrew into the wood, and suffered 
them to pass unmolested. This circumstance induced 
Gurth to believe both that the gang was strong in num- 
bers, and that they kept regular guards^ around their place 
cf rendezvous. 

When they arrived on the open heath, where Gurth 
might have had some trouble in finding his road, the 
thieves guided him straight forward to the top of a little 
eminence, whence he could see, spread beneath him in 
the moonlight, the palisades of the lists, the glimmering 
pavilions pitched at either end, with the pennons which 
adorned them fluttering in the moonbeam, and from which 
could be heard the hum of the song with which the sen- 
tinels were beguiling their night-watch. 

Here the thieves stopped. 

" We go with you no farther," said they ; " it were not 
safe that we should do so. — Remember the warning you 
have received — ^keep secret what has this night befallen 
you, and you will have no room to repent it — neglect 
what is now told you, and the Tower of London shall not 
protect you against our revenge." 

" Good night to you, kind sirs," said Gurth ; " I shall 
remember your orders, and trust that there is no offence 
in wishing you a safer and an honester trade." 

TliaB they parted, the outlaws returning in the direc- 
tion from whence they had come, and Gurth proceeding 
to the tent of his master, to whom, notwithstanding the 
injunction he had received, he communicated the whole 
adventures of the evening. 



IVANHOE. ^ 1 91 

The Disinherited Knight was filled with astonishment, 
no less at the generosity of Eebecca, by which, however, 
he resolved he would not profit, than that of the robbers, 
to whose profession such a quality seemed totally foreign. 
His course of reflections upon these singular circum- 
stances was, however, interrupted by the necessity for 
taking repose, which the fatigue of the preceding day, 
and the propriety of refreshing himself for the morrow's 
encounter, rendered alike indispensable. 

The knight, therefore, stretched himself for repose 
upon a rich couch, with which the tent was provided ; 
and the faithful Gurth, extending his hardy limbs upon a 
bear-skin which formed a sort of carpet to the jiavilion, 
laid himself across, the opening of the tent, so that no 
one could enter without awakening him. 




192 WAVERLET NOVELS. 



CHAPTER XII. 



The heralds left theh* pricking up and down, 

Now ringen trumpets loud and clarion. 

There is no more to say, but east and west, 

In go the speares sadly in the rest, 

In goth the sharp spur into the side, 

There see men who can just and who can ride ; 

There shiver shaftes upon shieldes thick, 

lie feeleth through the heart-spone the prick j 

Up springen speares, twenty feet in height, 

Out go the swordes to the silver bright; 

The helms they to-hewn and to-shred : 

Out burst the blood with stern streames red. 

Chauces. 

Morning arose in unclouded splendour, and ere the 
Bun was much above the horizon, the idlest or the most 
eager of the spectators appeared on the common, moving 
to the lists as to a general centre, in order to secure a 
favourable situation for viewing the continuation of the 
expected games. 

The marshals and their attendants appeared next on 
the field, together with t^*^ heralds, for the purpose of 
receiving the names of the knights who intended to joust, 
with the side which each chose to espouse. This was a 
necessary precaution, in order to secure equality betwixt 
the two bodies who should be opposed to each other. 

According to due formality, the Disinherited Knight 
was to be considered as leader of the one body, while 
Brian de Bois-Guilbert, who had been rated as having 



ITAIs^HOE. 193 

done second-best in the preceding day, was named first 
champion of the other band. Those who had concurred 
in the challenge adhered to his party of course, excepting 
only Ralph de Vipont, whom his fall had rendered unfit 
so soon to put on his armour. There was no want of 
distinguished and noble candidates to fill up the ranks on 
either side. 

In fact, although the general tournament, in which all 
knights fought at once, was more dangerous than single 
encounters, they were, nevertheless, more frequented and 
practised by the chivalry of the age. Many knights, who 
had not sufficient confidence in their own skill to defy a 
single adversary of high reputation, were, nevertheless, 
desirous of displaying their valour in the general combat, 
where they might meet others with whom they were 
more upon an equality. On the present occasion, about 
fifty knights were inscribed as desirous of combating upon 
each side, when the marshals declared that no more could 
be admitted, to the disappointment of several who were 
too late in preferring their claim to be included. 

About the hour ^ of ten o'clock, the whole plain was 
crowded with horsemen, horsewomen, and foot-passen- 
gers, hastening to the tournament ; and shortly after, a 
grand flourish of trumpets announced Prince John and 
'his retinue, attended by many of those knights who 
meant to take share in the game, as well as others 
who had no such intention. 

About the same time arrived Cedric the Saxon, with 
the Lady Rowena, unattended, however, by Athelstane. 
This Saxon lord had arrayed his tall and strong person 
in armour, in order to take his place among the comba- 
tants ; and, considerably to the surprise of Cedric, had 
chosen to enlist himself on the part of the Knight 

VOL. XVIL 13 



194 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

Templar. The Saxon, indeed, had remonstrated strongly 
with his friend upon the injudicious choice he had made 
of his party ; but he had onlj received that sort of 
answer usually given by those who are more obstinate 
in following their own course, than strong in justi^- 
fying it. 

His best, if not his only reasoQ, for adhering to the 
party of Brian de Bois-Guilbert, Athelstane had the 
prudence to keep to himself. Though his apathy of dis- 
position prevented his taking any means to recommend 
himself to the Lady Rowena, he was, nevertheless, by no 
mfeans insensible to her charms, and considered his union 
with her as a matter already fixed beyond doubt, by the 
assent of Cedric and her other friends. It had therefore 
been with smothered displeasure that the proud though 
indolent Lord of Coningsburgh beheld the victor of the 
preceding day select Kowena as the object of that honour 
which it became his privilege to confer. In order to 
punish him for a preference which seemed to interfere 
with his own suit, Athelstane, confident of his strength, 
and to whom his flatterers, at least, asicribed great skill in 
arms, had determined not only to deprive the Disin- 
herited Knight of his powerful succour, but, if an oppor- 
tunity should occur, to make him feel the weight of his 
battle-axe. 

De Bracy, and other knights attached to Prince John, 
in obedience to a hint from him, had joined the party 
of the challengers, John being desirous to secure, if 
possible, the victory to that side. On the other hand, 
many other knights, both English and Norman, natives 
and strangers, took part against the challengers, the more 
readily that the opposite band was to be led by so dis- 
tinguished a champion as the Disinherited Knight had 
approved himself. 



IVANHOE. 195 

As soon as Prince John observed that the destined 
Queen of the day had arrived upon the field, assuming 
that air of courtesy which sat well upon him when he was 
pleased to exhibit it, he rode forward to meet her, doffed 
his bonnet, and alighting from his horse, assisted the 
Lady Rowena from her saddle, while his followers un- 
covered at the same time, and one of the most distin- 
guished dismounted to hold her palfrey. 

" It is thus," said Prince John, " that we set the duti- 
ful example of loyalty to the Queen of Love and Beauty, 
and are ourselves her guide to the throne which she 
must this day occupy. — Ladies," he said, '' attend your 
Queen, as you wish in your turn to be distinguished by 
like honours." 

So saying, the Prince marshalled Rowena to the seat 
of honour opposite his own, while the fairest and most 
distinguished ladies present crowded after her to obtain 
places as near as possible to their temporary sovereign. 

No sooner was Rowena seated, than a burst of music, 
half-drowned by the shouts of the multitude, greeted her 
new dignity. Meantime, the sun shone fierce and bright 
upon the polished arms of the knights of either side, 
who crowded the opposite extremities of the lists, and 
held eager conference together concerning the best mode 
of arranging their line of battle, and supporting the 
conflict. 

The heralds then proclaimed silence until the laws of 
the tourney should be rehearsed. These were calculated 
in some degree to abate the dangers of the day ; a pre- 
caution the more necessary, as the conflict was to be 
maintained with sharp swords and pointed lances. 

The champions were therefore prohibited to thrust with 
the sword, and were confined to striking. A knight, it 



196 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

was announced, might use a mace or battle-axe at 
pleasure, but the dagger was a prohibited weapon. A 
knight unhorsed might renew the fight on foot with any 
other on the opposite side in the same predicament ; but 
mounted horsemen were in that case forbidden to assail 
him. When any knight could force his antagonist to tho 
extremity of the lists, so as to touch the palisade with his 
person or arms, such opponent was obliged to yield him- 
self vanquished, and his armour and horse were placed 
at the disposal of the conqueror. A knight thus over- 
come was not permitted to take farther share in the com- 
bat. If any combatant was struck down, and unable to 
recover his feet, his squire or page might enter the lists, 
and drag his master out of the press ; but in that case 
the knight was adjudged vanquished, and his arms and 
horse declared forfeited. The combat was to cease as 
soon as Prince John should throw down his leading staff, 
or truncheon ; another precaution usually taken to prevent 
the unnecessary effusion of blood by the too long endur- 
ance of a sport so desperate. Any knight breaking the 
rules of the tournament, or otherwise transgressing the 
rules of honourable chivalry, was liable to be stript of his 
arms, and, having his shield reversed, to be placed in 
that posture astride upon the bars of the palisade, and 
exposed to public derision, in punishment of his un- 
knightly conduct. Having announced these precautions, 
the heralds concluded with an exhortation to each good 
knight to do his duty, and to merit favour from the Queen 
of Beauty and of Love. 

This proclamation having been made, the heralds with- 
drew to their stations. The knights, entering at either 
end of the lists in long procession, arranged themselves in 
a double file, precisely opposite to each other, the leader 



IVANHOE. 197 

of each party being in the centre of the foremost rank, — » 
a post which he did not occupy until each had carefully 
arranged the ranks of his party, and stationed every one 
in his place. 

It was a goodly, and at the same time an anxious sight, 
to behold so many gallant champions, mounted bravely, 
and armed richly, stand ready prepared for an encounter 
so formidable, seated on their war-saddles like so many 
pillars of iron, and awaiting the signal of encounter with 
the same ardour as their generous steeds, which, by 
neighing and pawing the ground, gave signal of their 
impatience. 

As yet the knights held their long lances upright, their 
bright points glancing to the sun, and the streamers with 
which they were decorated fluttering over the plumage 
of the helmets. Thus they remained while the marshals 
of the field surveyed their ranks with the utmost exact- 
ness, lest either party had more or fewer than the 
appointed -number. The tale was found exactly com- 
plete. The marshals then withdrew from the lists, and 
William de Wyvil, with a voice of thunder, pronounced 
the signal words, — Laissez alter I The trumpets sounded 
as he spoke — the spears of the champions were at once 
lowered and placed in the rests — the spurs were dashed 
into the flanks of the horses, and the two foremost ranks 
of either party rushed upon each other in full gallop, and 
met in the middle of the lists with a shock, the sound of 
which was heard at a mile's distance. The rear rank of 
each party, advanced at a slower pace to sustain the 
defeated, and follow up the success of the victors of their 
party. 

The consequences of the encounter were not instantly 
seen, for the dust raised by the trampling of so many 



198 WAYERLET NOVELS. 

Bteeds darkened the air, and it was a minute ere the 
anxious spectators could see the fate of the ercounter. 
When the fight became visible, half the knights oi) each 
side were dismounted, some by the dexterity of 'heir 
adversary's lar^ce, — some by the superior weight and 
strength of opponents, which had borne down both horse 
and man, — some lay stretched on earth as if never more 
to rise, — some had already gained their feet, and were 
closing hand to hand with those of their antagonists who 
were in the same predicament, — and several on both 
sides, who had received wounds by which they were 
disabled, were stopping their blood with their scarfs, and 
endeavouring to extricate themselves from the tumult. 
The mounted knights, whose lances had been almost all 
broken, by the fury of the encounter, were now closely 
engaged with their swords, shouting their war-cries, and 
exchanging buffets, as if honour and life depended on the 
issue of the combat. 

The tumult was presently increased by the advance of 
the second rank on either side, which, acting as a reserve, 
now rushed on to aid their companions. The followers 
of Brian de Bois-Guilbert shouted, — " Ha! Beau-seant! 
Beau-seant ! * — For the Temple — For the Temple ! " 
The opposite party shouted in answer, — " Desdichado ! 
Desdichado ! " — which watchword they took from the 
motto upon their leader's shield. 

The champions thus encountering each other with tho 
utmost fury, and with alternate success, the tide of 
battle seemed to flow now toward the southern, now to- 
ward the northern extremity of the lists, as the one or 

* Beau-seant was the name of the Templars' banner, which was 
half black, half white, to intimate, it is said, that they were candid 
and fair towards Christians, but black and terrible towards infidels. 



IVANHOE. 199 

the other party prevailed. Meantime the clang of the 
blows, and the shouts of the combatants, mixed fearfully 
with the sound of the trumpets, and drowned the groans 
of those who fell, and lay rolling defenceless beneath the 
feet of the horses. The splendid armour of the comba- 
tants was now defaced with dust and blood, and gave way 
at every stroke of the sword and battle-axe. The gay 
plumage, shorn from the crests, drifted upon the breeze 
like snow-flakes. All that was beautiful and graceful in 
the martial array had disappeared, and what was now 
visible was only calculated to awake terror or compas- 
sion. 

Yet such is the force of habit, that not only the vulgar 
spectators, who are naturally attracted by sights of hor- 
ror, but even the ladies of distinction, who crowded the 
galleries, saw the conflict with a thrilling interest cer- 
tainly, but without a wish to withdraw their eves from a 
sight so terrible. Here and there, indeed, a fair cheek 
might turn pale, or a faint scream might be heard, as a 
lover, a brother, or a husband was struck from his horse. 
But, in general, the ladies around encouraged the com- 
batants, not only by clapping their hands and waving 
their veils and kerchiefs, but even by exclaiming, " Brave 
lance ! Good sword ! " when any successful thrust or 
blow took place under their observation. 

Such being the interest taken by the fair sex in this 
bloody game, that of the men is the more easily understood. 
It shewed itself in loud acclamations upon every change 
of fortune, while all eyes were so riveted on the lists, 
that the spectators seemed as if they themselves had dealt 
and received the blows which were there so freely be- 
stowed. And between every pause was heard the voice 
of the heralds, exclaiming, ^' Fight on, brave knights 



200 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

Man dies, but glory lives ! — Fight on — death is better 
than defeat ! — Fight on, brave knights ! — for bright eyes 
behold your deeds ! " 

Amid the varied fortunes of the combat, the eyes cf aD 
endeavoured to discover the leaders of each band, who, 
minghng in the thick of the fight, encouraged their com- 
panions both by voice and example. Both displayed 
great feats of gallantry, nor did either Bois-Guilbert or 
the Disinherited Knight find in the ranks opposed to 
then a champion who could be termed their unquestioned 
match. They repeatedly endeavoured to single out each 
other, spurred by mutual animosity, and aware that the 
fall of either leader might be considered as decisive of 
victory. Such, however, was the crowd and confusion, 
that, during the earlier part of the conflict, their efforts 
to meet were unavailing, and they were repeatedly sepa- 
rated by the eagerness of their followers, each of whom 
was anxious to win honour, by measuring his strength 
against the leader of the opposite party. 

But when the field became thin by the numbers on 
either side who had yielded themselves vanquished, had 
been compelled to the extremity of the lists, or been 
otherwise rendered incapable of continuing the strife, the 
Templar and the Disinherited Knight at length encoun- 
tered hand to hand, with all the fury that mortal animos- 
ity, joined to rivalry of honour, could inspire. Such was 
the address of each in parrying and striking, that the 
spectators broke forth into a unanimous and involuntary 
shout, expressive of their delight and admiration. 

But at this moment the party of the Disinherited 
Knight had the worst; the gigantic arm of Front-de- 
Boeuf on the one flank, and the ponderous strength of 
Athelstane on the other, bearing down and dispersing 



IVANHOE. 201 

tliose immediately exposed to them. Finding themselves 
freed from their immediate antagonists, it seems to have 
occurred to both these knights at the same instant, that 
they would render the most decisive advantage to their 
party, by aiding the Templar in his contest with his 
rival. Turning their horses, therefore, at the same mo- 
ment; the Norman spurred against the Disinherited 
Knight on the one side, and the Saxon on the other. It 
was utterly impossible that the object of this unequal and 
unexpected assault could have sustained it, had he not 
been warned by a general cry from the spectators, who 
could not but take interest in one exposed to such disad- 
vantage. 

" Beware ! beware ! Sir Disinherited ! " was shouted 
so universally, that the knight became aware of his 
danger; and, striking a full blow at the Templar, he 
reined back his steed in the same moment, so as to 
escape the charge of Athelstane and Front-de-Ba3uf, 
These knights, therefore, their aim being' thus eluded, 
rushed from opposite sides betwixt the object of their 
attack and the Templar, almost running their horses 
against each other ere they could stop their career. Re- 
covering their horses, however, and wheeling them round, 
the whole three pursued their united purpose of bearing 
to the earth the Disinherited Knight. 

Nothing could have saved him, except the remarkable 
strength and activity of the noble horse which he had 
won on the preceding day. 

This stood him in the more stead, as the horse of Bois- 
Guilbert was wounded, and those of Front-de-Boeuf and 
Athelstane were both tired with the weight of their 
gigantic masters, clad in complete armour, and with the 
preceding exertions of the day. The masterly horseman- 



202 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

ship of the Disinherited Knight, and the activity of the 
noble animal which he mounted, enabled him for a few 
minutes to keep at sword's point his three antagonists, 
turning and wheeling with the agility of a hawk upon the 
wing, keeping his enemies as far separate as he could, 
tnd rushing now against the one, now against the other, 
dealing sweeping blows with his sword, without waiting 
to receive those which were aimed at him in return. 

But although the lists rang with the applauses of his 
dexterity, it was evident that he must at last be over- 
powered ; and the nobles around Prince John implored 
him with one voice to throw down his warder, and to 
save so brave a knight from the disgrace of being over- 
come by odds. 

" Not I, by the light of Heaven ! " answered Prince 
John ; " this same springal, who conceals his name, and 
despises our proffered hospitality, has already gained one 
prize, and may now afford to let others have their turn." 
As he spoke tlius an unexpected incident changed the 
fortune of the day. 

There was among the ranks of the Disinherited Knight 
a champion in black armour, mounted on a black horse, 
large of size, tall, and to all appearance powerful and 
strong, like the rider by whom he was mounted. This 
knight, who bore on his shield no device of any kind, had 
hitherto evinced very little interest in the event of the 
fight, beating off with seeming ease those combatants 
who attacked him, but neither pursuing his advantages, 
nor himself assailing any one. In short, he had hitherto 
acted the part rather of a spectator than of a party in the 
tournament, a circumstance which procured him among 
the spectators the name of Le Noir Faineant^ or the 
Black Sluggard. 



IVANHOE. 203 

At once this knight seemed to throw aside his apathy, 
when he discovered the leader of his. party so hard be- 
stead ; for, setting spurs to his horse, which was quite 
fresh, he came to his assistance like a thunderbolt, ex- 
claiming in a voice like a trumpet-call, " Desdichado I to 
the rescue ! " It was high time ; for, while the Disin- 
herited Kjiight was pressing upon the Templar, Front- 
de-Bxuf had got nigh to him with his uplifted sword ; 
but ere the blow could descend, the Sable Knight dealt a 
stroke on the head, which, glancing from the polished 
helmet, lighted with violence scarcely abated on the 
chamfron of the steed, and Front-de-Boeuf rolled on the 
ground, both horse and man equally stunned by the fury 
of the blow. Le Noir Faineant then turned his horse 
upon Athelstane of Coningsburgh ; and his own sword 
having been broken in his encounter with Front-de-Boeuf, 
he wrenched from the hand of the bulky Saxon the 
battle-axe which he wielded, and, like one familiar with 
the use of the weapon, bestowed him such a blow upon 
the crest, that Athelstane also lay senseless on the field. 
Having achieved this double feat, for which he was the 
more highly applauded that it was totally unexpected 
from him, the Knight seemed to resume the sluggishness 
of his character, returning calmly to the northern ex* 
tremity of the lists, leaving his leader to cope as he best 
could with Brian de Bois-Guilbert. This was no longer 
matter of so much difficulty as formerly. The Templar's 
horse had bled much, and gave way under the shock of 
the Disinherited Knight's charge. Brian de Bois-Guil- 
bert rolled on the field, encumbered with the stirrup, from 
which he was unable to draw his foot. His antagonist 
sprung from horseback, waved his fatal sword over the 
head of his adversary, and commanded him to yield him- 



204 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

self; when Prince John, more moved by the Templar's 
dangerous situation than he had been by that of his rival, 
saved him the mortification of confessing himself van* 
quished, by casting down his warder, and putting an end 
to the conflict. 

It was, indeed, only the rehcs and embers of the fight 
which continued to burn ; for of the few knights who still 
continued in the lists, the greater part had, by tacit con- 
sent, forborne the conflict for some time, leaving it to be 
determined by the strife of the leaders. 

The squires, who had found it a matter of danger and 
diflSculty to attend their masters during the engagement, 
now thronged into the lists to pay their dutiful attend- 
ance to the wounded, who were removed with the ut- 
most care and attention to the neighbouring pavilions, 
or to the quarters prepared for them in the adjoining 
village. 

Thus ended the memorable field of Ashby-de-la-Zouche, 
one of the most gallantly contested tournaments of that 
age ; for although only four knights, including one who 
was smothered by the heat of his armour, had died upon 
the field, yet upwards of thirty were desperately wounded, 
four or five of whom never recovered. Several more 
were disabled for life ; and those who escaped best carried 
the marks of the conflict to the grave with them. Hence 
it is always mentioned in the old records, as the Gentle 
and Joyous Passage of Arms of Ashby. 

It being now the duty of Prince John to name the 
knight who had done best, he determined that the honour 
of the day remained with the knight whom the popular 
voice had termed Le Noir Faineant, It was pointed out 
to the Prince, in impeachment of this decree, that the 
victory had been in fact won by the Disinherited Knight, 



IVANHOE. 20S 

who, in the course of the dav, had overcome six cham- 
pions with his own hand, and who had finally unhorsed 
and struck down the leader of the opposite party. But 
Prince John adhered to his own opinion, on the ground 
that the Disinherited Knight and his party had lost the 
day, hut for the powerful assistance of the Knight of the 
Black Armour, to whom, therefore, he persisted in award* 
ing the prize. 

To the surprise of all present, however, the knight thus 
preferred was nowhere to he found. He had left the 
lists immediately when the conflict ceased, and had heen 
observed by some spectators to move down one of the 
forest glades with the same slow pace and listless and 
indifferent manner which had procured him the epithet 
of the Black Sluggard. After he had been summoned 
twice by sound of trumpet, and proclamation of the her- 
alds, it became necessary to name another to receive the 
honours which had been assigned to him. Prince John 
had now no farther excuse for resisting the claim of the 
Disinherited Knight, whom, therefore, he named the 
champion of the day. 

Through a field shpnery with blood, and encumbered 
with broken armour and the bodies of slain and wounded 
horses, the marshals of the lists again conducted the vic- 
tor to the foot of Prince John's throne. 

" Disinherited Knight," said Prince John, " since by 
that title only you will consent to be known to us, we a 
second time award to you the honours of this tournament, 
and announce to you your right to claim and receive 
from the hands of the Queen of Love and Beauty, the 
Chaplet of Honour which your valour has justly de- 
served." The Knight bowed low and gracefully, but 
returned no answer. 



206 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

While the trumpets sounded, while the heralds strained 
their voices in proclaiming honour to the brave and glory 
to the victor — while ladies waved their silken kerchiefs 
and embroidered veils, and while all ranks joined in a 
clamorous shout of exultation, the marshals conducted 
the Disinherited Knight across the lists to the foot of 
that throne of honour which was occupied by the Lady 
E/owena. 

On the lower step of this throne the champion was 
made to kneel down. Indeed his whole action, since the 
fight had ended, seemed rather to have been upon the 
impulse of those around him than from his own free 
will ; and it was observed that he tottered as they guided 
him the second time across the lists. Rowena, descend- 
ing from her station with a graceful and dignified step, 
was about to place the chaplet which she held in her 
hand upon the helmet of the champion, when the mar- 
shals exclaimed with one voice, " It must not be thus — 
his head must be bare." The knight muttered faintly a 
few words, which were lost in the hollow of his helmet, 
but their purport seemed to be a desire that his casque 
might not be removed. 

Whether from love of form, or from curiosity, the mar- 
shals paid no attention to his expressions of reluctance, 
but unhelmed him by cutting the laces of his casque, and 
undoing the fastening of his gorget. When the helmet 
was removed, the well-formed, yet sun-burnt features of 
a young man of twenty-five were seen, amidst a pro- 
fusion of short fair hair. His countenance was as pale as 
death, and marked in one or two places with streaks of 
blood. 

Rowena had no sooner beheld him than she uttered a 
faint shriek ; but at once summoning up the energy of 



IVANHOE. ?07 

her disposition, and compelling herself as it were to pro- 
ceed, while her frame yet trembled with the violence of 
sudden emotion, she placed upon the drooping head of the 
victor the splendid chaplet which was the destined reward 
of the day, and pronounced, in a clear and distinct tone, 
these words : " I bestow on thee this chaplet, Sir Knight, 
as the meed of valour assigned to this day's victor : '* 
Here she paused a moment, and then firmly added, " And 
upon brows more worthy could a wreath of chivalry never 
be placed ! " 

The knight stooped his head, and kissed the hand of 
the lovely Sovereign by whom his valour had been re- 
warded ; and then, sinking yet farther forward, lay pros- 
trate at her feet. 

There was a general consternation. Cedric, who had 
been struck mute by the sudden appearance of his ban- 
ished son, now rushed forward, as if to separate him from 
Rowena. But this had been already accomplished by the 
marshals of the field, who, guessing the cause of Ivanhoe's 
swoon, had hastened to undo his armaur, and found that 
the head of a lance had penetrated his breastglate and 
inflicted a wound in his side. 



2C8 -WAVEULKSr HOTELS. 



CHAPTER XIIL 

" Heroes, approach! " Atrides thus aloud, 

" Stand forth distioguish'd from the circling crowd, 

Ye who by skill or manly force may claim 

Your rivals to surpass and merit fame. 

This cow, worth twenty oxen, is decreed 

Eor him who fiirthest sends the winged reed." 

Iliad 

The name of Ivanhoe was no sooner pronounced than 
it flew from mouth to mouth, with all the celerity wath 
which eagerness could convey and curiosity receive it. 
It was not long ere it reached the circle of the Prince, 
whose brow darkened as he heard the news. Looking 
around him, however, with an air of scorn, " My lords," 
said he, " and especially you, Sir Prior, what think ye of 
the doctrine the learned tell us, concerning innate attrac- 
tions and antipathies ? Methinks that I felt the presence 
of my brother's minion, even when I least guessed whom 
yonder suit of armour enclosed." 

" Front-de-Boeuf must prepare to restore his fief of 
Ivanhoe," said De Bracy, who, having discharged his 
part honourably in the tournament, had laid his shield 
and helmet aside, and again mingled with the Prince's 
retinue, 

" Ay," answered Waldemar Fitzurse, " this gallant is 
likely to reclaim the castle and manor which Richard as- 
signed to him, and which your highness's generosity has 
since given to Front-de-Boeuf." 



lYANHOE. 209 

" Front-de-Boeuf," replied John, " is a man more will- 
ing to swallow three manors such as Ivanhoe, than to 
disgorge one of them. For the rest, sirs, I hope none 
here will deny my right to confer the fiefs of the crown 
upon the faithful followers who are around me, and ready 
to perform the usual military service, in the room of those 
who have wandered to foreign countries, and can neither 
render homage nor service when called upon." 

The audience were too much interested in the question 
not to pronounce the Prince's assumed right altogether 
indubitable. " A generous Prince ! — a most noble Lord, 
who thus takes upon himself the task of rewarding his 
faithful followers ! " 

Such were the words which burst from the train, ex- 
pectants all of them of similar grants at the expense of 
King Richard's followers and favourites, if indeed they 
had not as yet received such. Prior Aymer also assented 
to the general proposition, observing, however, " That the 
blessed Jerusalem could not indeed be termed a foreign 
country. She was communis mater — the mother of all 
Christians. But he saw not," he declared, " how the 
Knight of Ivanhoe could plead any advantage from this, 
since he " (the Prior) " was assured that the crusaders, 
under Richard, had never proceeded much farther than 
Askalon, which, as all the world knew, was a town of the 
Philistines, and entitled to none of the privileges of the 
Holy City." 

Waldemar, whose curiosity had led him towards the 
place where Ivanhoe had fallen to the ground, now re- 
turned. " The gallant," said he, " is likely to give your 
highness little disturbance, and to leave Front-de-Boeuf 
in the quiet possession of his gains — he is severely 
wounded." 

VOL. xvn. 14 



210 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

" Whatever becomes of him," said Prince John, " he is 
victor of the day ; and were he tenfold our enemy, or the 
devoted friend of our brother, which is perhaps the same, 
his wounds must be looked to — our own physician shall 
attend him." 

A stern smile curled the Prince's lip as he spoke. 
Waldemar Fitzurse hastened to reply, that Ivanhoe was 
already removed from the lists, and in the custody of his 
friends. 

" I was somewhat afflicted," he said, " to see the grief 
of the Queen of Love and Beauty, whose sovereignty 
of a day this event has changed into mourning. I am not 
a man to be moved by a woman's lament for her lover, 
but this same Lady Rowena suppressed her sorrow with 
such dignity of manner that it could only be discovered 
by her folded hands and her tearless eye, which trembled 
as it remained fixed on the lifeless form before her." 

" Who is this Lady Rowena," said Prince John, " of 
whom we have heard so much ? " 

"A Saxon heiress of large possessions," replied the 
Prior Aymer; "a rose of loveliness, and a jewel of 
wealth ; the fairest among a thousand, a bundle of myrrh, 
and a cluster of camphire." 

" We shall cheer her sorrows," said Prince John, " and 
amend her blood, by wedding her to a Norman. She 
seems a minor, and must therefore be at our royal dis- 
posal in marriage. — How sayst thou, De Bracy.'^ What 
thinkst thou of gaining fair lands and livings, by wedding 
a Saxon, after the fashion of the followers of the Con- 
queror ? " 

" If the lands are to my liking, my lord," answered De 
Bracy, " it will be hard to displease me with a bride ; and 
deeply will I hold myself bound to your highness for a 



IVANHOE. 211 

good deed, whicli will fulfil all promises made in favouf 
of your servant and vassal." 

" We will not forget it," said Prince John ; " and that 
we may instantly, go to work, command our seneschal 
presently to order the attendance of the Lady Kowena 
and her company ; that is, the rude churl her guardian, 
and the Saxon ox whom the Black Knight struck down 
in the tournament, upon this evening's banquet. — De 
Bigot," he added to his seneschal, " thou wilt word this 
our second summons so courteously, as to gratify the pride 
of these Saxons, and make it impossible for them again 
to refuse ; although, by the bones of Becket, courtesy to 
them is casting pearls before swine." 

Prince John had proceeded thus far, and was about to 
give the signal for retiring from the lists, when a small 
billet was put into his hand. 

" From whence ? " said Prince John, looking at the 
person by whom it was delivered. 

" From foreign parts, my lord, but from whence I know 
not," replied his attendant. " A Frenchman brought it 
hither, who said, he had ridden night and day to put it 
into the hands of your highness." 

The Prince looked narrowly at the superscription, and 
then at the seal, placed so as to secure the flox-silk with 
which the billet was surrounded, and which bore the im- 
pression of three fleurs-de-lis. John then opened the 
billet with apparent agitation, which visibly and greatly 
increased when he had perused the contents, which were 
expressed in these words — 

" Take heed to yourself, for the Devil is unchained I " 

The Prince turned as pale as death, looked first on the 
earth, and then to heaven, like a man who has received 
aews that sentence of execution has been passed upon him. 



212 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

Recovering from the first effects of his surprise, he took 
Waldemar Fitzurse and De Bracy aside, and put the 
billet into their hands successively. "It means," he 
added in a faltering voice, " that my brother Richard has 
obtained his freedom." 

" This may be a false alarm, or a forged letter/' said 
De Bracy. 

" It is France's own ha^id and seal," replied Prince John. 

" It is time, then," said Fitzurse, " to draw our party 
to a head, either at York, or some other centrical place. 
A few days later and it will be indeed too late. Your 
highness must break short this present mummery." 

" The yeomen and commons," said De Bracy, " must 
not be dismissed discontented, for lack of their share in 
the sports." 

" The day," said Waldemar, " is not yet very far spent 
— let the archers shoot a few rounds at the target, and the 
prize be adjudged. This will be an abundant fulfilment 
of the Prince's promises, so far as this herd of Saxon 
serfs is concerned." 

"I thank thee, Waldemar," said the Prince; "thou 
reraindest me, too, that I have a debt to pay to that inso- 
lent peasant who yesterday insulted our person. Our 
banquet also shall go forward to-night as we proposed. 
Were this my last hour of power, it should be an hour 
sacred to revenge and to pleasure — let new cares come 
with to-morrow's new-day." 

The sound of the trumpets soon recalled those spec- 
tators who had already begun to leave the field ; and 
proclamation was made that Prince John, suddenly called 
by high and peremptory public duties, held himself obliged 
to discontinue the entertainments of to-morrow's festival : 
nevertheless, that, unwilling so many good yeomen should 



IVANHOE. 213 

depart without a trial of skill, he was pleased to appoint 
them, before leaving the ground, presently to execute the 
competition of archery intended for the morrow. To the 
Lest archer, a prize was to be awarded, being a bugle- 
horn, mounted with silver, and a silken baldric richly 
ornamented with a medallion of Saint Hubert, the patron 
of silvan sport. 

More than thirty yeomen at first presented themselves 
as competitors, several of whom were rangers and under- 
keepers in the royal forests of Needwood and Charnwood. 
When, however, the archers understood with whom they 
were to be matched, upwards of twenty withdrew theni- 
selves from the contest, unwilling to encounter the dis- 
honour of almost certain defeat. For in those days the 
skill of each celebrated marksman was as well known for 
many miles round him, as the qualities of a horse trained 
at Newmarket are famihar to those who frequent that 
well-known meeting. 

The diminished list of competitors for silvan fame still 
amounted to eight. Prince John stepped from his royal 
seat to view more nearly the persons of these chosen 
yeomen, several of whom wore the royal livery. Having 
satisfied his curiosity by this investigation, he looked for 
the object of his resentment, whom he observed standing 
on the same spot, and with the same composed counte- 
nance which he had exhibited upon the preceding day. 

" Fellow," said Prince John, " I guessed by, thy insolent 
babble thou wert no true lover of the long-bow, and I see 
thou darest not adventure thy skill among such merry- 
men as stand yonder." 

" Under favour, sir," replied the yeoman, " I have an- 
other reason for refraining to shoot, besides the fearing 
discomfiture and disgrace." 



214 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

" And what is thy other reason ? " said Prince John, 
who, for sojne cause which perhaps he could not himself 
have explained, felt a painful curiosity respecting this 
individual. 

" Because," replied the woodsman, " I know not if these 
yeomen and I are used to shoot at the same marks ; and 
because, moreover, I know not how your Grace might 
relish the winning of a third prize by one who has un- 
wittingly fallen under your displeasure." 

Prince John coloured as he put the question, " What is 
thy name, yeoman ? " 

" Locksley," answered the yeoman. 

" Then, Locksley," said Prince John, " thou shalt shoot 
in thy turn, when these yeomen have displayed their 
skill. If thou earnest the prize, I will add to it twenty 
nobles ; but if thou losest it, thou shalt be stript of thy 
Lincoln green, and scourged out of the lists with bow- 
strings, for a wordy and insolent braggart." 

" And how if I refuse to shoot on such a wager ? " 
said the yeoman. — " Your Grace's power, supported, as 
it is, by so many men-at-arms, may indeed easily strip 
and scourge me, but cannot compel me to bend or to draw 
my bow." 

" If thou refusest my fair proffer," said the Prince, 
^ the Provost of the lists shall cut thy bow-string, break 
thy bow and arrows, and expel thee from the presence as 
a faint-hearted craven." 

" This is no fair chance you put on me, proud Prince," 
said the yeoman, " to compel me to peril myself against 
the best archers of Leicester and Staffordshire, under the 
penalty of infamy if they should overshoot me. Never- 
theless, I will obey your pleasure." 

" Look to him close, men-at-arms," said Prince John, 



IVANHOE. 215 

" his heart is sinking ; I am jealous lest he attempt to 
escape the trial. — And do you, good fellows, shoot boldly 
round ; a buck and a butt of wine are ready for your 
refreshment in yonder tent, when the prize is won." 

A target was placed at the upper end of the southern 
avenue which led to the lists. The contending archers 
took their station in turn, at the bottom of the southern 
access ; the distance between that station and the mark 
allowing full distance for what was called a shot at rovers. 
The archers, having previously determined by lot their 
order of precedence, were to shoot each three shafts in 
successiont The sports were regulated by an officer of 
inferior rank, termed the Provost of the Games ; for the 
high rank of the marshals of the lists would have been 
held degraded, bad they condescended to superintend the 
sports of the yeomanry. 

One hj one the archers, stepping forward, delivered 
their shafts yeomanlike and bravely. Of twenty-four 
arrows, shot in succession, ten were fixed in the target, 
and the others ranged so near it, that, considering the 
distance of the mark, it was accounted good archery. Of 
the ten shafts which hit the target, two within the inner 
ring were shot by Hubert, a forester in the service of 
Malvoisin, who was accordingly pronounced victorious. 

" Now, Locksley," said Prince John to the bold yeoman, 
with a bitter smile, " wilt thou try conclusions with Hu- 
bert, or wilt thou yield up bow, baldric, and quiver, to 
the Provost of the sports ? " 

" Sith it be no better," said Locksley, " I am content 
to try my fortune ; on condition that when I have shot 
two shafts at yonder mark of Hubert's, he shall be bound 
to shoot one at that which I shall propose." 

" That is but fair," answered Prince John, " and it 



216 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

Bhall not be refused thee. — If thou dost beat this brag- 
gart, Hubert, I will fill the bugle with silver pennies for 
thee." 

" A man can do but his best/' answered Hubert ; " but 
my grandsire drew a good long-bow at Hastings, and I 
trust not to dishonour his memory." 

The former target was now removed, and a fresh one 
of the same size placed in its room. Hubert, who, as 
vietor in the first trial of skill, had the right to shoot first, 
took his aim with great deliberation, long measuring the 
distance with his eye, while he held in his hand his 
bended bow, with the arrow placed on the string. At 
length he made a step forward, and raising the bow at 
the full stretch of his left arm, till the centre or grasping- 
place was nigh level with his fac^,, he drew his bow-string 
to his ear. The arrow whistled through the air, and 
lighted within the inner ring of the target, but not exactly 
in the centre. 

** You have not allowed for the wind, Hubert," said 
his antagonist, bending his bow, " or that had been a 
better shot." 

So saying, and without shewing the least anxiety to 
pause upon his aim, Locksley stept to the appointed sta- 
tion, and shot his arrow as carelessly in appearance as 
if he had not even looked at the mark. He was speak- 
ing almost at the instant that the shaft left the bow-string, 
yet it alighted in the target two inches nearer to the 
white spot which marked the centre than that of Hubert. 

" By the light of Heaven ! " said Prince John to Hu- 
bert, " an thou suffer that runagate knave to overcome 
thee, thou art worthy of the gallows ! " 

Hubert had but one sfet speech for all occasions. "An 
your highness were to hang me," he said, " a man can 



IVANHOE. 217 

but do his best. Nevertheless, mj grandsire drew a good 
bow " 

" The foul fiend on thj grandsire and all his genera- 
tion ! " interrupted John ; '^ shoot, knave, and shoot thy 
best, or it shall be worse for thee ! " 

Thus exhorted, Hubert resumed his place, and not 
neglecting the caution which he had received from his 
adversary, he made the necessary allowance for a very 
light air of wind, which had just arisen, and shot so suc- 
cessfully that his arrow alighted in the very centre of the 
target. 

" A Hubert ! a Hubert ! " shouted the populace, more 
interested in a known person than in a stranger. " In 
the clout ! — in the clout ! — a Hubert for ever ! " 

" Thou canst not mend that shot, Locksley," said the 
Prince with an insulting smile. 

" I will notch his shaft for him, however," replied 
Locksley. 

And letting fly his arrow with a little more precaution 
than before, it lighted right upon that of his competitor, 
which it split to shivers. The people who stood around 
were so astonished at his wonderful dexterity, that they 
could not even give vent to their surprise in their usual 
clamour. " This must be the devil, and no man of flesh 
and blood," whispered the yeomen to each other ; " such 
archery was never seen since a bow was first bent in 
Britain." 

" And now," said Locksley, " I will crave your Grace's 
permission to plant such a mark as is used in the North 
Country ; and welcome every brave yeoman who shall 
try a shot at it to win a smile from the bonny lass he 
loves best." 

He then turned to leave the lists. " Let your guards 



218 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

attend me," he said, " if you please — I go but to cut a 
rod from the next willow-bush." 

Prujce John made a signal that some attendants should 
follow him in case of his escape ; but the cry of " Shame ! 
shame ! " which burst from the multitude, induced him 
to alter his ungenerous purpose. 

" Locksley returned almost instantly with a willow 
wand about six feet in length, perfectly straight, and 
rather thicker than a man's thumb. He began to peel 
this with great composure, observing at the same time, 
that to ask a good woodsman to shoot at a target so broad 
as had hitherto been used, was to put shame upon his 
skilL " For his own part," he ^aid, " and in the land 
where he was bred, men would as soon take for their 
mark King Arthur's round table, which held sixty 
Knights around it. A child of seven years old," he said, 
"might hit yonder target with a headless shaft; but," 
added he, walking deliberately to the other end of the 
lists, and sticking the willow wand upright in the ground, 
" he that hits that rod at five-score yards, I call him an 
archer fit to bear both bow and quiver before a king, an 
it were the stout King Richard himself." 

" My grandsire," said Hubert, " drew a good bow at 
the battle of Hastings, and never shot at such a mark in 
his life — and neither will I. If this yeoman can cleave 
that rod, I give him the bucklers — or rather, I yield to 
the devil that is in his jerkin, and not to any human 
skill ; a man can but do his best, and I will not shoot 
where I am sure to miss. I might as well shoot at the 
edge of our parson's whittle, or at a wheat straw, or at a 
sunbeam, as at a twinkling white streak which I can 
hardly see." 

" Cowardly dog ! " said Prince John. — " Sirrah Locks- 



IVANHOE. 219 

lej, do thou shoot ; but, if thou hittest such a mark, I will 
say thou art the first man ever did so. Howe'er it be, 
thou shalt not crow over us with a mere show of superior 
skill." 

*' I will do my best, as Hubert says," answered Lock3« 
ley ; " no man can do more." 

So saying, he again bent his bow, but on the present 
occasion looked with attention to his weapon, and changed 
the string, which he thought was no longer truly round, 
having been a little frayed by the two former shots. He 
then took his aim with some deliberation, and the multi- 
tude awaited the event in breathless silence. The archer 
vindicated their opinion of his skill : his arrow split the 
willow rod against which it was aimed. A jubilee of 
acclamations followed ; and even Prince John, in admira- 
tion of Locksley's skill, lost for an instant his dislike to 
his person. " These twenty nobles," he said, " which, 
with the bugle, thou hast fairly won, are thine own ; we 
will make them fifty, if thou wilt take livery and service 
with us as a yeoman of our body guard, and be near to 
our person. For never did so strong a hand bend a bow, 
or so true an eye direct a shaft." 

" Pardon me, noble Prince," said Locksley ; " but I 
have vowed, that if ever^I take service, it should be with 
your royal brother. King Richard. These twenty nobles 
I leave to Hubert, who has this day drawn as brave a 
bow as his grandsire did at Hastings. Had his modesty 
not refused the trial, he would have hit the wand as well 
as I." 

Hubert shook his head as he received with reluctance 
the bounty of the stranger; and Locksley, anxious to 
escape farther observation, mixed with the crowd, and 
was seen no more. 



220 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

The victorious archer would not perhaps have escaped 
John's attention so easily, had not that Prince had other 
subjects of anxious and more important meditation press- 
ing upon his mind at that instant. He called upon his 
chamberlain as he gave the signal for retiring from the 
lists, and commanded him instantly to gallop to Ashby, 
and seek out Isaac the Jew. '^ Tell the dog," he said, 
" to send me, before sun-down, two thousand crowns. He 
knows the security ; but thou mayest show him this ring 
for a token. The rest of the money must be paid at 
York within six days. If he neglects, I will have the 
unbelieving villain's head. Look that thou pass him not 
on the way ; for the circumcised slave was displaying his 
stolen finery amongst us." 

So saying, the Prince resumed his horse, and returned 
to Ashby, the whole crowd breaking up and dispersing 
upon his retreat. 



XXXX 

xxxx 

X.XX.X 
XXXX 



rVANHOE. 221 



CHAPTER XIV. 



In rough magnificence array'd, * 

When ancient chivalry display'd 

The pomp of her heroic games, 

And crested chiefs and tissued dames 

Assembled, at the clarion's call. 

In some proud castle's high arch'd hall. 

Waeton. 



Prince John held his high festival in the Castle of 
Ashby. This was not the same building of which the 
stately ruins still interest the traveller, and which was 
erected at a later period by the Lord Hastings, High 
Chamberlain of England, one of the first victims of the 
tyranny of Richard the Third, and yet better known as 
one of Shakespeare's characters than by his historical 
fame. The castle and town of Ashby, at this time, 
belonged to Eoger de Quincey, Earl of Winchester, 
who, during the period of our history, was absent in 
the Holy Land. Prince John, in the meanwhile, occu- 
pied his castle, and disposed of his domains without 
scruple ; and seeking at present to dazzle men's eyes by 
his hospitality and magnificence, had given orders for 
great preparations, in order to render the banquet as 
splendid as possible. 

The purveyors of the Prince, who exercised on this 
and other occasions the full authority of royalty, had 
swept the country of all that could be collected which 



222 WAVEELEY NOVELS. 

was esteemed fit for their master's table. Guests also 
were invited in great numbers ; and in the necessity in 
which he then found himself of courting popularity, 
Prince John had extended his invitation to a few dis- 
tinguished Saxon and Danish families, as well as to the 
Norman nobility and gentry of the neighbourhood. How- 
ever despised and degraded on ordinary occasions, the 
great numbers of the Anglo-Saxons must necessarily 
render them formidable in the civil commotions which 
seemed approaching, and it was an obvious point of pohcy 
to secure popularity with their leaders. 

It was accordingly the Prince's intention, which he for 
some time maintained, to treat these unwonted guests 
with a courtesy to which they had been httle accustomed.. 
But although no man with less scruple made his ordinary 
habits and feelings bend to his interest, it was the mis- 
fortune of this Prince, that his levity and petulance were 
perpetually breaking out, and undoing all that had been 
gained by his previous dissimulation. 

Of this fickle temper he gave a memorable example in 
Ireland, when sent thither by his father, Henry the 
Second, with the purpose of buying golden opinions of 
the inhabitants of that new and important acquisition to 
the English crown. Upon this occasion the Irish chief- 
tains contended which should first offer to the young 
Prince their loyal homage and the kiss of peace. But, 
instead of receiving their salutations with courtesy, John 
and his petulant attendants could not resist the temptation 
of pulling the long beards of the Irish chieftains ; a con- 
duct, which, as might have been expected, was highly 
resented by these insulted dignitaries, and produced fatal 
consequences to the English domination in Ireland. It 
is necessary to keep these inconsistencies of John's char- 



IVANHOE. 223 

acter in view, that the reader may understand his con- 
duct during the present evening. 

In execution of the resolution which he had formed 
during his cooler moments, Prince John received Cedric 
and Athelstane with distinguished courtesy, and expressed 
his disappointment without resentment, when the indis- 
position of Rowena was alleged by the former as a reason 
for her not attending upon his gracious summons. Cedric 
and Athelstane were both dressed in the ancient Saxon 
garb, which, although not unhandsome in itself, and in 
the present instance composed of costly materials, was so 
remote in shape and appearance from that of the other 
guests, that Prince John took great credit to himself with 
"Waldemar Fitzurse for refraining from laughter at a 
sight which the fashion of the day rendered ridiculous. 
Yet, in the eye of sober judgment, the short close tunic 
and long mantle of the Saxons was a more graceful, as 
well as a more convenient dress, than the garb of the 
Normans, whose under garment was a long doublet, so 
loose as to resemble a shirt or waggoner's frock, covered 
by a cloak of scanty dimensions, neither fit to defend the 
wearer from cold nor from rain, and the only purpose of 
which appeared to be to display as much fur, embroidery, 
and jewellery work, as the ingenuity of the tailor could 
contrive to lay upon it. The Emperor Charlemagne, 
in whose reign they were first introduced, seems to 
have been very sensible of the inconveniences arising 
from the fashion of this garment. " In Heaven's name,'* 
said he, " to what purpose serve these abridged cloaks ? 
If we are in bed they are no cover, on horseback they 
are no protection from the wind and Tain, and when 
seated, they do not guard our legs from the damp or the 
frost." 



224 WAYERLEY NOVELS. 

Nevertheless, spite of this imperial objurgation, the 
short cloaks continued in fashion down to the time of 
which we treat, and particularly among the princes of 
the House of Anjou. They were therefore in universal 
use among Prince John's courtiers ; and the long mantle, 
which formed the upper garment of the Saxons, was held 
in proportional derision. 

The guests were seated at a table which groaned under 
the quantity of good cheer. The numerous cooks who 
attended on the Prince's progress, having exerted all 
their art in varying the forms in which the ordinary 
provisions were served up, had succeeded almost as well 
as the modern professors of the culinary art in rendering 
them perfectly unhke their natural appearance. Besides 
these dishes of domestic origin, there were various delica- 
cies brought from foreign parts, and a quantity of rich 
pastry, as well as of the simnel-bread and wastel cakes, 
which were only used at the tables of the highest nobility. 
The banquet was crowned with the richest wines, both 
foreign and domestic. 

But, though luxurious, the Norman nobles were not, 
generally speaking, an intemperate race. While indulg- 
ing themselves in the pleasures of the table, they aimed 
at delicacy, but avoided excess, and were apt to attribute 
gluttony and drunkenness to the vanquished Saxons, as 
vices peculiar to their inferior station. Prince John, 
indeed, and those who courted his pleasure by imitating 
las foibles, were apt to indulge to excess in the pleasures 
Ct the trencher and the goblet ; and indeed, it is weU 
known that his death was occasioned by a surfeit upon 
peaches and new ale. His conduct, however, was an 
exception to the general manners of his countrymen. 

With sly gravity, interrupted only by private signs to 



IVANHOE. 225 

each other; the Norman knights and nobles beheld the 
ruder demeanour of Athelstane and Cedric at a banquet, 
to the form and fashion of which thej were unaccus- 
tomed. And while their manners were thus the subject 
of sarcastic observation, the untaught Saxons unwittingly 
transgressed several of the arbitrary rules established for 
the regulation of society. Now, it is well known, that a 
man may with more impunity be guilty of an actual 
breach either of real good breeding or good morals, than 
appear ignorant of the most minute point of fashionable 
etiquette. Thus Cedric, who dried his hands with a 
towel, instead of suffering the moisture to exhale, by 
waving them gracefully in the air, incurred more ridicule 
than his companion Athelstane, when he swallowed to his 
own single share the whole of a large pasty composed of 
the most exquisite foreign delicacies, and termed at that 
time a Karum-pie, When, however, it was discovered, 
by a serious cross-examination, that the Thane of Co- 
ningsburgh (or Franklin, as the Normans termed him,) 
had no idea what he had been devouring, and that he had 
taken the contents of the Karum-pie for larks and pigeons, 
whereas they were in fact beccaficoes and nightingales, 
his ignorance brought him in for an ample share of the 
ridicule which would have been more justly bestowed on 
his gluttony. • 

The long feast had at length its end ; and, while the 
goblet circulated freely, men talked of the feats of the 
preceding tournament — of the unknown victor in the 
archery games — of the Black Knight, whose self-denial 
had induced him to withdraw from the honours he had 
won — and of the gallant Ivanhoe, who had so dearly 
bought the honours of the day. The topics were treated 
with military frankness, and the jest and laugh went 

VOL. XVII. 16 



226 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

round the hall. The brow of Prince John alone was 
overclouded during these discussions ; some overpower- 
ing care seemed agitating his mind, and it was only when 
he received occasional hints from his attendants, that he 
seemed to take interest in what was passing around lam. 
On such occasions, he would start up, quaff a cup of 
wine as if to raise his spirits, and then mingle in the 
conversation bj some observation made abruptly or at 
random. 

" We drink this beaker," said he, " to the health of 
Wilfred of Ivanhoe, champion of this Passage of Arms, 
and grieve that his wound renders him absent from our 
board — Let all fill to the pledge, and especially Ce- 
dric of Rotherwood, the worthy father of a son so 
promising." 

" No, my lord," replied Cedric, standing up, and plac- 
ing on the table his untasted cup, " I yield not the 
name of son to the disobedient youth, who at once de- 
spises my commands, and relinquishes the manners and 
customs of his fathers." 

" 'Tis impossible," cried Prince John, with well-feigned 
astonishment, " that so gallant a knight should be an un- 
worthy or disobedient son ! " 

" Yet, my lord," answered Cedric, " so it is with this 
Wilfred. He left my homely dwelling to mingle with 
the gay nobility of your brother's court, where he 
learned to do those tricks of horsemanship which you 
prize so highly. He left it contrary to ray wish and 
command; and -in the days of Alfred that would have 
been termed disobedience — ay, and a crime severely pun- 
ishable." 

" Alas ! " replied Prince John, with a deep sigh of 
affected sympathy, " since your son was a follower of 



IVANHOE. 227 

my unhappy brother, it need not be inquired where 
or from whom he learned the lesson of fihal disobe- 
dience." 

Thus spake Prince John, wilfully forgetting, that of all 
the sons of Henry the Second, though no one was free 
from the charge, he himself had been most distinguished 
for rebellion and ingratitude to his father. 

" I think," said he, after a moment's pause, " that my 
brother proposed to confer upon his favourite the rich 
manor of Ivanhoe." 

" He did endow him with it," answered Cedric ; " nor 
is it my least quarrel with my son, that he stooped to hold, 
as a feudal vassal, the very domains which his fathers 
possessed in free and independent right." 

" We shall then have your willing sanction, good Ce- 
dric," said Prince John, " to confer this fief upon a person 
whose dignity wiU not be diminished by holding land of 
the British crown. — Sir Reginald Front-de-Boeuf," he 
said, turning towards that Baron, " I trust you will so 
keep the goodly barony of Ivanhoe, that Sir Wilfred shall 
not incur his father's displeasure by again entering upon 
that fief." 

" By St. Anthony ! " answered the black-browed giant, 
" I will consent that your highness shall hold me a Saxon, 
if either Cedric or Wilfred, or the best that ever bore 
English blood, shall wrench from me the gift with which 
your highness has graced me." 

" Whoever shall call thee Saxon, Sir Baron," replied 
Cedric, offended at a mode of expressioa by which the 
Normans frequently expressed their habitual contempt 
of the English, " will do thee an honour as great as it is 
undeserved." 

Front-de-Boeuf would have repHed, but Prince John's 
petulance and levity got the start. 



228 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

" Assuredly," said he, " my lords, the noble Cedric 
Bpeaks truth ; and his race may claim precedence over us 
as much in the length of their pedigrees as in the longi- 
tude of their cloaks." 

" They go before us indeed in the field — as deer before 
dogs," said Malvoisin. 

" And with good right may they go before us — ^forget 
not," said Prior Aymer — " the superior decency and de- 
corum of their manners." 

" Their singular abstemiousness and temperance," said 
De Bracy, forgetting the plan which promised him a 
Saxon bride. 

" Together with the courage and conduct," said Brian 
de Bois-Guilbert, " by which they distinguished them- 
selves at Hastings and elsewhere." 

While with smooth and smiHng cheek, the courtiers, 
each in turn, followed their Prince's example, and aimed 
a shaft of ridicule at Cedric, the face of the Saxon be- 
came inflamed with passion, and he glanced his eyes 
fiercely from one to another, as if the quick succession 
of so many injuries had prevented his replying to them 
in turn ; or, like a baited bull, who, surrounded by his 
tormentors, is at a loss to choose from among them the 
immediate object of his revenge. At length he spoke, in 
a voice half choked with passion ; and, addressing him- 
self to Prince John as the head and front of the offence 
which he had received, " Whatever," he said, " have 
been the follies and vices of our race, a Saxon would 
have been held nidering"^ (the most emphatic term for 

• There was nothing accounted so ignominious among the Saxona 
as to merit this disgraceful epithet. Even William the Conqueror, 
hated as he was by them, continued to draw a considerable army of 
Anglo-Saxons to his Standard, by threatening to stigmatize those who 
staid at home as nidering. Bartholiims, I think, mentions a similar 
phrase which had like influence on the Danes. — L. T. 



IVANHOE. 229 

abject worthlessness,) who should, iiWiis own hall, and 
while his own wine-cup passed, have treated, or suJBfered 
to be treated, an unoffending guest, as your highness has 
this day beheld me used ; and whatever was the misfor* 
tune of our fathers on the field of Hastings, those may 
at least be silent," here he looked at Front-de-Boeuf and 
the Templar, "who have within these few hours, once 
and again lost saddle and stirrup before the lance of a 
Saxon." 

" By my faith, a biting jest ! " said Prince John. " How 
like you it, sirs ? — Our Saxon subjects rise in spirit and 
courage ; become shrewd in wit and bold in bearing in 
these unsettled times — What say ye, my lords ? — By this 
good light, I hold it best to take our galleys, and return 
to Normandy in time." 

" For fear of the Saxons ! " said De Bracy, laughing ; 
" we should need no weapons but our hunting spears to 
bring these boars to bay." 

" A truce with your raillery. Sir Kiiights, said Fitzurse 
— " and it were well," he added, addressing the Prince, 
"that your highness should assure the worthy Cedric 
there is no insult intended him by jests, which must sound 
but harshly in the ear of a stranger." 

" Insult ! " answered Prince John, resuming his courtesy 
of demeanour ; " I trust it will not be thought that I could 
mean, or permit, any to be ofiered in my presence. Here ! 
I fill my cup to Cedric himself, since he refuses to pledge 
his son's health." 

I'he cup went round amid the well-dissembled applause 
of the courtiers, which, however, failed to make the im- 
pression on the mind of the Saxon that had been 
designed. He was not naturally acute of perception, 
but those too much undervalued his understanding who 



230 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

deemed that this ^ttering compliment would obliterate 
the sense of the prior insult. He was silent, however, 
when the royal pledge again passed round, " To Sir 
Athelstane of Coningsburgh." 

The knight made his obeisance, and shewed his sense 
of the honour by drainmg a huge goblet in answer to it. 

"And now, sirs," said Prince John, who began to bo 
warmed with the wine which he had drank, "having 
done justice to our Saxon guests, we will pray of them 
some requital to our courtesy. Worthy Thane," he con- 
tinued, addressing Cedric, " may we pray you to name to 
us some Norman whose mention may least sully your 
mouth, and to wash down with a goblet of wine all bitter- 
ness which the sound may leave behind it ? " 

Fitzurse arose while Prince John spoke, and gliding 
behind the seat of the Saxon, whispered to him not to 
omit the opportunity of putting an end to unkindness be- 
twixt the two races, by naming Prince John. The Saxon 
replied not to this politic insinuation, but, rising up, and 
filling his cup to the brim, he addressed Prince John in 
these words: "Your highness has required that I should 
name a Norman deserving to be remembered at our ban- 
quet. This, perchance, is a hard task, since it calls on 
the slave to sing the praises of the master- — upon the 
vanquished, while pressed by all the evils of conquest, to 
sing the praises of the conqueror. Yet I will name a 
Norman — the first in arms and in place — the best and 
noblest of his race. And the lips that -shall refuse to 
pledge me to his well-earned fame, I term false and dis- 
honoured, and will so maintain them with my life — I 
quaff this goblet to the health of Richard the Lion- 
hearted." 

Prince John, who had expected that his own name 



IVANHOE. 231 

would have closed the Saxon's speech, started when that 
of his injured brother was so unexpectedly introduced. 
He raised mechanically the wine-cup to his lips, then 
instantly set it down, to view the demeanour of the com- 
pany at this unexpected proposal, which many of them 
felt it as unsafe to oppose as to comply with. Some of 
them, ancient and experienced courtiers, closely imitated 
the example of the Prince himself, raising the goblet to 
their lips, and again replacing it before them. There 
were many who, with a more generous feeling, exclaimed, 
" Long live King Richard ! and may he be speedily re- 
stored to us ! " And some few, among whom were Front- 
de-Boeuf and the Templar, in sullen disdain, suffered 
their goblets to stand untasted before them. But no man 
ventured directly to gainsay a pledge filled to the health 
of the reigning monarch. 

Having enjoyed his triumph for about a minute, Ce- 
dric said to his companion, " Up, noble Athelstane ! we 
have remained here long enough, since we have requited 
the hospitable courtesy of Prince John's banquet. Those 
who wish to know farther of our rude Saxon manners 
must henceforth seek us in the homes of our fathers, since 
we have seen enough of royal banquets, and enough of 
Norman courtesy." 

So saying, he arose and left the banqueting room, fol- 
lowed by Athelstane, and by several other guests, who, 
partaking of the Saxon lineage, held themselves insulted 
by the sarcasms of Prince John and his courtiers. 

" By the bones of St. Thomas," said Prince John, as 
they retreated, " the Saxon churls have borne off the best 
of the day, and have retreated with triumph." 

" Oonclamaium est, poculatum est,'' said Prior Aymer ; 
we have drunk, and we have shouted — it were time we 
left our wine flagons." 



232 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

" The monk hath some fair penitent to shrive to-night, 
that he is in such a hurry to depart," said De Bracy. 

"Not so, Sir Knight," replied the Abbot; "but I 
must move several miles forward this evening upon my 
homeward journey," 

" They are breaking up," said the Prince, in a whisper 
to Fitzurse ; " their fears anticipate the event, and this 
coward Prior is the first to shrink from me." 

" Fear not, my Lord," said Waldemar ; " I will shew 
him such reasons as shall induce him to join us when we 
hold our meeting at York. — Sir Prior," he said, " I must 
speak with you in private, before you mount your pal- 
frey." 

The other guests were now fast dispersing, with the 
exception of those immediately attached to Prince John's 
faction, and his retinue. 

" This, then, is the result of your advice," said the 
Prince, turning an angry countenance upon Fitzurse ; 
" that I should be bearded at my own board by a drunken 
Saxon churl, and that, on the mere sound of my brother's 
name, men should fall off from me as if I had the lep- 
rosy ? " 

" Have patience, sir," replied his counsellor ; " I might 
retort your accusation, and blame the inconsiderate levity 
which foiled my design, and misled your own better judg- 
ment. But this is no time for recrimination. De Bracy 
and 1 will instantly go among these shuffling cowards, 
and convince them they have gone too far to recede." 

" It will be in vain," said Prince John, pacing the 
apartment with disordered steps, and expressing himself 
with an agitation to which the wine he had drank partly 
contributed — " It will be in vain — they have seen the 
handwriting on the wall — they have marked the paw of 



IVANHOE. 233 

the lion in the sand — they have heard his approaching 
roar shake the wood — nothing will reanimate their cour- 
age." 

"Would to God," said Fitzurse to De Bracj, "that 
aught could reanimate his own ! His brother's very name 
is an ague to him. Unhappy are the counsellors of a 
Prince, who wants fortitude and perseverance alike in 
good and in eviL'* 




234 WAVERLET NOVELS. 



CHAPTER XV 

And yet he thinks, — ha, ha, ha, ha, — he thinks 
I am the tool and servant of his will. 
Well, let it be ; through all the maze of trouble 
His plots and base oppression must create, 
I'll shape myself a way to higher things, 
And who will say 'tis wrong? 

Basil, a Tragedy. 

No spider ever took more pains to repair the shattered 
meshes of his web, than did Waldemar Fitzurse to re- 
unite and combine the scattered members of Prince 
John's cabal. Few of these were attached to him from 
inclination, and none from personal regard. It was there- 
fore necessary, that Fitzurse should open to them new 
prospects of advantage, and remind them of those which 
they at present enjoyed. To the young and wild nobles, 
he held out the prospect of unpunished license and uncon- 
trolled revelry ; to the ambitious, that of power, and to 
the covetous, that of increased wealth and extended do- 
mains. The leaders of the mercenaries received a dona- 
tion in gold ; an argument the most persuasive to their 
minds, and without which all others would have proved 
in vain. Promises were still more liberally distributed 
than money by this active agent ; and, in fine, nothing 
was left undone that could determine the wavering, or 
animate the disheartened. The return of King Richard he 
spoke of as an event altogether beyond the reach of prob- 



lYANHOE. 235 

ability ; yet, when he observed, from the doubtful looks 
and uncertain answers which he received, that this was 
the apprehension by which the minds of his accomplices 
were most haunted, he boldly treated that event, should 
it really take place, as one which ought not to alter their 
political calculations. 

" If Richard returns," said Fitzurse, " he returns to 
enrich his needy and impoverished crusaders at the ex- 
pense of those who did not follow him to the Holy Land. 
He returns to call to a fearful reckoning, those who, dur- 
ing his absence, have done aught that can be construed 
offence or encroachment upon either the laws of the land 
or the privileges of the crown. He returns to avenge 
upon the Orders. of the Temple and the Hospital, the 
preference which they shewed to Philip of France during 
the wars in the Holy Land. He returns, in finej to 
punish as a rebel every adherent of his brother Prince 
John. Are ye afraid of his power ? " continued the art- 
ful confidant of that Prince ; '^ we acknowledge him a 
strong and valiant knight ; but these are not the days of 
King Arthur, when a champion could encounter an army. 
If Richard indeed comes back, it must be alone, — unfol- 
lowed — unfriended. The bones of his gallant army have 
whitened the sands of Palestine. The few of his fol- 
lowers who have returned have straggled hither, like this 
Wilfred of Ivanhoe, beggared and broken men. — And 
what talk ye of Richard's right of birth ? " he proceeded, 
in answer to those who objected scruples on that head. 
" Is Richard's title of primogeniture more decidedly cer- 
tain than that of Duke Robert of Normandy, the Con- 
queror's eldest son? And yet William the Red, and 
Henry, his second and third brothers, were successively 
preferred to him by the voice o^ the nation. Robert had 



236 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

every merit which can be pleaded for E-ichard ; he was a 
bold knight, a good leader, generous to his friends and to 
the church, and, to crown the whole, a crusader and a 
conqueror of the Holy Sepulchre; and yet he died a 
blind and miserable prisoner in the Castle of Cardiff, 
because he opposed himself to the will of the people, who 
chose that he should not rule over them. It is our right," 
he said, " to choose from the blood royal the prince who 
is best qualified to hold the supreme power — that is," 
said he, correcting himself, " him whose election will best 
promote the interests of the nobility. In personal quali- 
fications," he added, " it was possible that Prince John 
might be inferior to his brother Richard; but when it 
was considered that the latter returned with the sword of 
vengeance in his hand, while the former held out rewards, 
immunities, privileges, wealth, and honours, it could not 
be doubted which was the king whom in wisdom the 
nobility were called on to support." 

These, and many more arguments, some adapted to the 
peculiar circumstances of those whom he addressed, had 
the expected weight with the nobles of Prince John's 
faction. Most of them consented to attend the proposed 
meeting at York, for the purpose of making general 
arrangements for placing the crown upon the head of 
Prince John. 

It was late at night, when, worn out and exhausted 
with his various exertions, however gratified with the 
result, Fitzurse, returning to the castle of Ashby, met 
with De Bracy, who had exchanged his banqueting gar- 
ments for a short green kirtle, with hose of the same cloth 
and colour, a leathern cap or head-piece, a short sword, a 
horn slung over his shoulder, a long-bow in his hand, and 
a bundle of arrows stuck in his belt. Had Fitzurse met 



IVANHOE. 237 

this figure in an outer apartment, he would have passed 
him without notice, as one of the yeomen of the guard ; 
but finding him in the inner hall, he looked at him with 
more attention, and recognised the Norman knight in the 
dress of an English yeoman. 

" What mummery is this, De Bracy ? " said Fitzurse, 
somewhat angrily ; " is this a time for Christmas gambols 
and quaint maskings, when the fate of our master. Prince 
John, is on the very verge of decision ? Why hast thou 
not been, like me, among these heartless cravens, whom 
the very name of King Eichard terrifies, as it is said to 
do the children of the Saracens ? " 

"I have been attending to mine own business," an- 
swered De Bracy, calmly, " as you, Fitzurse, have been 
minding yours." 

" I minding mine own business ! " echoed Waldemar ; 
" I have been engaged in that of Prince John, our joint 
patron." 

" As if thou hadst any other reason for that, Walde- 
mar," said De Bracy, " than the promotion of thine own 
individual interest ? Come, Fitzurse, we know each other 
— ambition is thy pursuit, pleasure is mine, and they be- 
come our different ages. Of Prince John thou thinkest 
as I do ; that he is too weak to be a determined mon- 
arch, too tyrannical to be an easy monarch, too inso- 
lent and presumptuous to be a popular monarch, and 
too fickle and timid to be long a monarch of any kind. 
But he is a monarch by whom Fitzurse and De Bracy 
hope to rise and thrive ; and therefore you aid him 
with your policy; and I with the lances of my Free 
Companions." 

"A hopeful auxiliary," said Fitzurse, impatiently 
^ playing the fool in the very moment of utter necessity. 



238 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

— What on earth dost thou purpose by this absurd dis- 
guise at a moment so urgent ? " 

" To get me a wife," answered De Bracy, coolly, " after 
the manner of the tribe of Benjamin." 

" The tribe of Benjamin ! " said Fitzurse ; " I compre- 
hend thee not." 

"Wert thou not in presence yester-even," said De 
Bracy, " when we heard the Prior Aymer tell us a tale 
in reply to the romance which was sung by the Minstrel ? 
— He told how, long since in Palestine, a deadly feud 
arose between the tribe of Benjamin and the rest of the 
Israelitish nation ; and how they cut to pieces well-nigh 
all the chivalry of that tribe ; and how they swore by our 
blessed Lady, that they would not permit those who re- 
mained to marry in their lineage ; and how they became 
grieved for their vow, and sent to consult his holiness the 
Pope how they might be absolved from it ; and how, by 
the advice of the holy Father, the youth of the tribe of 
Benjamin carried off from a superb tournament all the 
ladies who were there present, and thus won them wives 
without the consent either of their bfides or their brides' 
families." 

" I have heard the story," said Fitzurse, " though either 
the Prior or thou hast made some singular alterations in 
date and circumstances." 

" I tell thee," said De Bracy, " that I mean to purvey 
me a wife after the fashion of the tribe of Benjamin ; 
which is as much as to say, that in this same equipment 
I will fall upon that herd of Saxon bullocks, who have 
this night left the castle, and carry off from them the 
lovely Rowena." 

" Art thou mad, De Bracy ? " said Fitzurse. " Bethink 
thee that, though the men be Saxons, they are rich and 



lYANHOE. 239 

powerful, and regarded with the more respect by their 
countrymen, that wealth and honour are but the lot of few 
of Saxon descent." 

" And should belong to none," said De Bracy ; " the 
work of the Conquest should be completed." 

" This is no time for it, at least," said Fitzurse ; " the 
approaching crisis renders the favour of the multitude 
indispensable, _and Prince John cannot refuse justice to 
any one who injures their favourites." 

" Let him grant it if he dare," said De Bracy ; " he 
will soon see the difference betwixt the support of such a 
lusty lot of spears as mine, and that of a heartless mob 
of Saxon churls. Yet I mean no immediate discovery of 
myself. Seem I not in this garb as bold a forester as 
ever blew horn ? The blame of the violence shall rest 
with the outlaws of the Yorkshire forests. I have sure 
spies on the Saxon's motions — To-night they sleep in the 
convent of Saint Wittol, or Withold, or whatever they 
call that churl of a Saxon Saint at Burton-on-Trent. 
Next day's march brings them within our reach, and, 
falcon-ways, we swoop on them at once. Presently after 
I will appear in mine own shape, play the courteous 
knight, rescue the unfortunate and afflicted fair one from 
the hands of the rude ravishers, conduct her to Front-de- 
Bceuf 's castle, or to Normandy, if it should be necessary, 
and produce her not again to her kindred until she be the 
bride and dame of Maurice de Bracy." 

" A marvellously sage plan," said Fitzurse, " and, as I 

think, not entirely of thine own device. — Come, be frank, 

• De Bracy, who aided thee in the invention ? and who is 

to assist in the execution ? for, as I think, thine own 

band lies as far off as York." 

" Marry, if thou must needs know," said De Bracy, 



240 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

" it was the Templar Brian de Bois-Guilbert that shaped 
out' the enterprise, which the adventure of the men of 
Benjamin suggested to me. He is to aid me in the 
onslaught, and he and his followers will personate the 
outlaws, from whom my valorous arm is, after c\ iging 
my garb, to rescue the lady." 

" By my halidome," said Fitzurse, " the plan was worthy 
of your united wisdom ! and thy prudence, De Bracy, is 
most especially manifested in the project of leaving the 
lady in the hands of thy worthy confederate. Thou 
mayest, I think, succeed in taking her from her Saxon 
friends, but how thou wilt rescue her afterwards from the 
clutches of Bois-Guilbert seems considerably more doubt- 
ful — He is a falcon well accustomed to pounce on a 
partridge, and to hold his prey fast." 

" He is a Templar," said De Bracy, " and cannot there- 
fore rival me in my plan of wedding this heiress ; — and 
to attempt aught dishonourable against the intended bride 
of De Bracy — By Heaven, were he a whole Chapter of 
his Order in his single person, he dared not do me such 
an injury." 

" Then since nought that I can say," said Fitzurse, 
"will put this folly from thy imagination, (for well I 
know the obstinacy of thy disposition,) at least waste as 
little time as possible — let not thy folly be lasting as well 
as untimely." 

" I tell thee," answered De Bracy, " that it will be the 
work of a few hours, and I shall be at York at the head 
of my daring and valorous fellows, as ready to supp^ort 
any bold design as thy policy can be to form one. — But 
I hear my comrades assembling, and the steeds stamping 
and neighing in the outer court. — Farewell. — I go, like a 
true knight, to win the smiles of beauty." 



lYANHOE. 241 

" Like a true knight ! " repeated Fitzurse, looking after 
film : " like a fool, I should say, or like a child, who will 
leave the most serious and needful occupation, to chase 
the down of the thistle that drives past him. — But it is 
with such tools that I must work ; — and for whose ad- 
vantage ? — For that of a Prince as unwise as he is profli- 
gate, and as hkely to be an ungrateful master as he has 
already proved a rebellious son and an unnatural brother. 
— But he, — he, too, is but one of the tools with which I 
labour ; and proud as he is, should he presume to separate 
his interest from mine, this is a secret which he shall soon 
learn." 

The meditations of the statesman were here interrupted 
by the voice of the Prince from an interior apartment, 
calling out, " Noble Waldemar Fitzurse ! " and, with 
bonnet doffed, the future Chancellor (for to such high 
preferment did the wily Norman aspire) hastened to 
receive the orders of the future sovereign. 

VOL. xvn. 16 




242 -WAVEELET NOVELS. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

Far in a wild, unknown to public view, 
From youth to age a reverend hermit grew; 
The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell, 
His food the fruits, his drink the crystal well; 
Remote from man, with God he pass'd his days. 
Prayer all his business — all his pleasure praise. 

Parnell. 

The reader cannot have forgotten that the event of 
the tournament was decided by the exertions of an un- 
known knight, whom, on account of the passive and 
indifferent conduct which he had manifested on the 
former part of the day, the spectators had entitled, 
Le Noir Faineant. This knight had left the field 
abruptly when the victory was achieved ; and when he 
was called upon to receive the reward of his valour, he 
was nowhere to be found. In the meantime, while sum- 
moned by heralds and by trumpets, the knight wa8 
holding his course northward, avoiding all frequented 
paths, and taking the shortest road through the wood- 
lands. He paused for the night at a small hostelry 
lying out of the ordinary route, where, however, he ob- 
tained from a wandering minstrel news of the event of 
the tourney. 

On the next morning the knight departed early, with 
the intention of making a long journey ; the condition of 
his horse, which he had carefully spared during the pre- 



IVANHOE. 243 

"ceding morning, being such as enabled him to travel far 
without the necessity of much repose. Yet his purpose 
was baffled by the devious paths through which he rode 
so that when evening closed upon him, he only found 
himself on the frontiers of the West Riding of Yorkshire. 
By this time both horse and man required refreshment, 
and it became necessary, moreover, to look out for some 
place in which they might spend the night, which was 
now fast approaching. 

The place where the traveller found himself seemed 
unpropitious for obtaining either shelter or refreshment, 
arid he was likely to be reduced to the usual expedient 
of knights-errant, who, on such occasions, turned their 
horses to graze, and laid themselves down to meditate on 
their lady-mistress, with an oak-tree for a canopy. But 
the Black Knight either had no mistress to meditate 
upon, or, being as indifferent in love, as he seemed to be 
in war, was not sufficiently occupied by passionate reflec- 
tions upon her beauty and cruelty, to be able to parry the 
effects of fatigue and hunger, and suffer love to act as a 
substitute for the solid comforts of a bed and supper. 
He felt dissatisfied, therefore, when, looking around, he 
found himself deeply involved in woods, through which 
indeed there were many open glades, and some paths, but 
such as seemed only formed by the numerous herds of 
cattle which grazed in the forest, or by the animals of 
> chase, and the hunters who made prey of them. 

The sun, by which the knight had chiefly directed his 
course, had now sunk behind the Derbyshire hills on his 
left, and every effort which he might take to pursue his 
journey was as likely to lead him out of his road as to 
advance him on his route. After having in vain en- 
deavoured to select the most beaten path, in hopes it 



244 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

might lead to the cottage of some herdsman, or the sylvan 
lodge of a forester, and having repeatedly found himself 
totally unable to determine on a choice, the knight 
resolved to trust to the sagacity of his horse ; expe- 
rience having, on former occasions, made him acquainted 
with the wonderful talent possessed by these animals 
for extricating themselves and their riders on such 
emergencies. 

The good steed, grievously fatigued with so long a 
day's journey under a rider cased in mail, had no sooner 
found, by the slackened reins, that he was abandoned to 
his own guidance, than he seemed to assume new strength 
and spirit ; and whereas formerly he had scarce replied 
to the spur, otherwise than by a groan, he now, as if 
proud of the confidence reposed in him, pricked up his 
ears, and assumed, of his own accord, a more lively 
motion. The path which the animal adopted rather 
turned off from the course pursued by the knight 
during the day ; but as the horse seemed confident in 
his choice, the rider abandoned himself to his discre- 
tion. 

He was justified by the event ; for the footpath soon 
after appeared a little wider and more worn, and the 
tinkle of a small bell gave the knight to understand 
that he was in the vicinity of some chapel or her- 
mitage. 

Accordingly, he soon reached an open plat of turf, on 
the opposite side of which, a rock, rising abruptly from a 
gently sloping plain, offered its grey and weather-beaten 
front to the traveller. Ivy mantled its sides in some 
places, and in others oaks and holly bushes, whose roots 
found nourishment in the cliffs of the crag, waved over 
the precipices below, like the plumage of the warrior ovei 



IVANHOE. 245 

his steel helmet, giving grace to that whose chief expres 
sion was terror. At the bottom of the rock, and leaning, 
as it were, against it, was constructed a rude hut, built 
chiefly of the trunks of trees felled in the neighbouring 
forest, and secured against the weather by having its 
crevices stuffed with moss mingled with clay. The stem 
of a young fir-tree lopped of its branches, with a piece of 
wood tied across near the top, was planted upright by the 
door, as a rude emblem of the holy cross. At a little 
distance on the right hand, a fountain of the purest water 
trickled out of the I'ock, and was received in a hollow 
stone, which labour had formed into a rustic basin. 
Escaping from thence, the stream murmured down the 
descent by a channel which its course had long worn, and 
so wandered through the little plain to lose itself in the 
neighbouring wood. 

Beside this fountain were the ruins of a very small 
chapel, of which the roof had partly fallen in. The 
building, when entire, had never been above sixteen feet 
long by twelve feet in breadth, and the roof, low in pro- 
portion, rested upon four concentric arches which sprung 
from the four corners of the building, each supported 
upon a short and heavy pillar. The ribs of two of these 
arches remained, though the roof had fallen down 
betwixt them ; over the others it remained entire. The 
entrance to this ancient place of devotion was under a 
very low round arch, ornamented by several courses of 
that zig-zag moulding resembling shark's teeth, which 
appears so often in the more ancient Saxon architecture. 
A belfry rose above the porch on four small pillars, 
within which hung the green and weather-beaten bell, 
the feeble sounds of which had been some time before 
heard by the Black Knight. 



246 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

The whole peacefiil and quiet scene lay glimmering in 
twilight before the eyes of the traveller, giving him good 
assurance of lodging for the night ; since it was a special 
duty of those hermits who dwelt in the woods, to exer- 
cise hospitality towards benighted or bewildered passen- 
gers. 

Accordingly, the knight took no time to consider 
minutely the particulars which we have detailed, but 
thanking Saint Julian (the patron of travellers) who 
had sent him good harbourage, he leaped from his horse 
and assailed the door of the hermitage with the butt of 
his lance, in order to arouse attention and gain admit- 
tance. 

It was some time before he obtained any answer, and 
the reply, when made, was unpropitious. "* 

" Pass on, whosoever thou art," was the answer given 
by a deep hoarse voice from within the hut, " and disturb 
not the servant of Grod and Saint Dunstan in his evening 
devotions." 

"Worthy father," answered the knight, "here is a 
poor wanderer bewildered in these woods, who gives 
thee the opportunity of exercising thy charity and hospi- 
tality." 

" Good brother," replied the inhabitant of the hermit- 
age, " it has pleased Our Lady and Saint Dunstan to 
destine me for the object of those virtues, instead of the 
exercise thereof. I have no provisions here which even 
a dog would share with me, and a horse of any tender- 
ness of nurture would despise my couch — ^pass therefore 
on thy way, and God speed thee." 

" But how," replied the knight, " is it possible for me 
to find my way through such a wood as this, when dark- 
ness is coming on ? I pray you, reverend father, as you 



IVANHOE. 247 

are a Christian, to undo your door, and at least point out 
to me my road.*' 

" And I pray you, good Christian brother," replied the 
anchorite, " to disturb me no more. You have already 
interrupted one pater^ two aves, and a credo, which I, 
miserable sinner that I am, should, according to my vow, 
have said before moonrise." 

" The road — the road ! " vociferated the knight, " give 
me directions for the road, if I am to expect no more 
from thee." 

" The road," replied the hermit, ^* is easy to hit. The 
path from the wood leads to a morass, and from thence 
to a ford, which, as the rains have abated, may now be 
passable. When thou hast crossed the ford, thou wilt 
take care of thy footing up the left bank, as it is some- 
what precipitous ; and the path, which hangs over the 
river, has lately, as I learn, (for I seldom leave the 
duties of my chapel,) given way in sundry places. Thou 
wilt then keep straight forward ^*' 

" A broken path — a precipice — sl ford, and a morass ! " 
said the knight, interrupting him, — " Sir Hermit, if you 
were the holiest that ever wore beard or told bead, you 
shall scarce prevail on me to hold this road to-night. I 
tell thee, that thou, who livest by the charity of the 
country — ^ill deserved, as I doubt it is — ^hast no right to 
refuse shelter to the wayfarer when in distress. Either 
open the door quickly, or by the rood, I will beat it down 
and make entry for myself." 

" Friend wayfarer," replied the hermit, " be not 
importunate ; if thou puttest me to use the carnal weapon 
in mine own defence, it will be e'en the worse for you." 

At this moment a distant noise of barking and growl* 
mg, which the traveller had for some time heard, became 



248 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

• 

extremely loud and furious, and made the kniglit suppose 
that the hermit, alarmed by his threat of making forcible 
entry, had called the dogs who made this clamour to aid 
him in his defence, out of some inner recess in which 
they had been kennelled. Incensed at this preparation 
on the hermit's part for making good his inhospitable 
purpose, the knight struck the door so furiously with his 
foot, that posts as well as staples shook with violence. 

The anchorite, not caring again to expose his door to a 
similar shock, now called out aloud, " Patience, patience- 
spare thy strength, good traveller, and I will presently 
undo the door, though, it may be, my doing so will be 
little to thy pleasure." 

The door accordingly was opened ; and the hermit, a 
large, strong-built man, in his sackcloth gown and hood, 
girt with a rope of rushes, stood before the knight. He 
had in one hand a lighted torch, or link, and in the other 
a baton of crabtree, so thick and heavy, that it might 
well be termed a club. Two large shaggy dogs, half 
greyhound half mastiff, stood ready to rush upon the 
traveller as soon as the door should be opened. But 
when the torch glanced upon the lofty crest and golden 
spurs of the knight, who stood without, the hermit, 
altering probably his original intentions, repressed the 
rage of his auxiliaries, and, changing his tone to a sort 
of churlish courtesy, invited the knight to enter his hut, 
making excuse for his unwillingness to open his lodge 
after sunset, by alleging the multitude of robbers and 
outlaws who were abroad, and who gave no honour to 
Our Lady or St. Dunstan, nor to those holy men who 
spent life in their service. 

" The poverty of your cell, good father," said the 
knight, looking around him, and seeing nothing but a bed 



rvANHOE. 249 

of leaves, a crucifix rudely carved in oak, a missal, with 
a rough-hewn table and two stools, and one or two clumsy 
articles of furniture — " the poverty of your cell should 
seem a sufficient defence against any risk of thieves, not 
to mention the aid of two trusty dogs, large and strong 
enough, I think, to pull down a stag, and of course, to 
match with most men." 

" The good keeper of the forest," said- the hermit, 
" hath allowed me the use of these animals, to protect 
my solitude until the times shall mend." 

Having said this, he fixed his torch in a twisted branch 
of iron which served for a candlestick ; and placing the 
oaken trivet before the embers of the fire, which he 
refreshed with some dry wood, he placed a stool upon 
one side of the table, and beckoned to the knight to do 
the same upon the other. 

They sat down, and gazed with great gravity at each 
other, each thinking in his heart that he had seldom seen 
a stronger or more athletic figure than was placed oppo- 
site to him. 

" Reverend hermit," said the knight, after looking long 
and fixedly at his host, " were it not to interrupt your 
devout meditations, I would pray to know three things 
of your holiness ; first, where I am to put my horse ?•— 
secondly, what I can have for supper ? — thirdly, where I 
am to take up my couch for the night ? " 

" I will reply to you," said the hermit, " with my 
finger, it being against my rule to speak by wcrds where 
signs can answer the purpose." So saying, he pointed 
successively to two corners of the hut. " Your stable," 
said he, " is there — your bed there ; and," reaching 
down a platter with two handfuls of parched pease upon 
it from the neighbouring shelf, and placing it upon the 
table, he added, " your supper is here." 



250 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

The knight shrugged his shoulders, and leaving tha 
hut, brought in his horse, (which in the interim he had 
fastened to a tree,) unsaddled him with much attention, 
and spread upon the steed's weary back his own mantle. 

The hermit was apparently somewhat moved to com- 
passion by the anxiety as well as address which the 
stranger displayed in tending his horse ; for, muttering 
something about provender left for the keeper's palfrey, 
he dragged out of a recess a bundle of forage, which he 
spread before the knight's charger, and immediately 
afterwards shook down a quantity of dried fern in the 
corner which he had assigned for the rider's couch. The 
knight returned him thanks for his courtesy ; and, this 
duty done, both resumed their seats by the table, whereon 
stood the trencher of pease placed between them. The 
hermit, after a long grace, which had once been* Latin, 
but of which original language few traces remained, 
excepting here and there the long rolling termination of 
some word or phrase, set example to his guest, by mod- 
estly putting into a very large mouth, furnished with 
teeth which might have ranked with those of a boar both 
in sharpness and whiteness, some three or four dried 
pease, a miserable grist as it seemed for so large and able 
a mill. 

The knight, in order to follow so laudable an example, 
laid aside his helmet, his corselet, and the greater part of 
his armour, and shewed to the hermit a head thick-curled 
with yellow hair, high features, blue eyes, remarkably 
bright and sparkling, a mouth well formed, having an 
upper lip clothed with mustaches darker than his hair, 
and bearing altogether the look of a bold, daring, and 
enterprising man, with which his strong form well corre* 
Bponded. 



rVANHOE. 251 

The hermit, as if wishing to answer to the confidence 
of his guest, threw back his cowl, and shewed a round 
bullet head belonging to a man in the prime of life. His 
close-shaven crown, surrounded by a circle of stiff curled 
black hair, had something the appearance of a parish 
pinfold begirt by its high hedge. The features expressed 
nothing of monastic austerity, or of ascetic privations; 
on the contrary, it was a bold bluff countenance, with 
broad black eyebrows, a weU-turned forehead, and cheeks 
as round and vermilion as those of a trumpeter, from 
which descended a long and curly black beard. Such a 
visage, joined to the brawny form of the holy man, spoke 
rather of sirloins and haunches, than of pease and pulse. 
This incongruity did not escape the guest. After he had 
with great difficulty accomplished the mastication of a 
mouthful of the dried pease, he found it absolutely neces- 
sary to request his pious entertainer to furnish him with 
some liquor ; who replied to his request by placing before 
him a large can of the purest water from the fountain. 

" It is from the well of Saint Dunstan," said he, " in 
which, betwixt sun and sun, he baptized five hundred 
heathen Danes and Britons — blessed be his name ! " 
And applying his black beard to the pitcher, he took a 
draught much more moderate in quantity than his enco- 
mium seemed to warrant. 

" It seems to me, reverend father," said the knight, 
*' that the small morsels which you eat, together with this 
holy, but somewhat thin beverage, have thriven with you 
marvellously. You appear a man more fit to win the 
ram at a wrestling match, or the ring at a bout at quarter- 
staff, or the bucklers at a sword-play, than to linger out 
your time in this desolate wilderness, saying masses, an^ 
living upon parched pease and cold water." 



252 WAVERLET NOYELS. 

" Sir Knight," answered the hermit, " your thoughts- 
like those of the ignorant laity, are according to the flesh. 
It has pleased Our Lady and my patron saint to bless 
the pittance to which I restrain myself, even as the pulse 
and water were blessed to the children Shadrach, Me- 
shach, and Abednego, who drank the same rather than 
defile themselves with the wine and meats which were 
appointed them by the King of the Saracens." 

^ Holy father," said the knight, " upon whose counte- 
nance it hath pleased Heaven to work such a miracle, 
permit a sinful layman to crave thy name ? " 

" Thou mayest call me," answered the hermit, " the 
Clerk of Copmanhurst, for so I am termed in these parts 
— They add, it is true, the epithet holy, but I stand not 
upon that, as being unworthy of such addition. — And 
now, valiant knight, may I pray ye for the name of my 
honourable guest ? " 

" Truly," said the knight, " Holy Clerk of Copman- 
hurst, men call me in these parts the Black Kjiight,— - 
many, sir, add to it the epithet of Sluggard, whereby I 
am no way ambitious to be distinguished." 

The hermit could scarcely forbear from smiling at his 
guest's reply. 

" I see," said he, " Sir Sluggish Knight, that thou art 
a man of prudence and of counsel ; and moreover, I see 
that my poor monastic fare likes thee not, accustomed, 
perhaps, as thou hast been to the license of courts and 
camps, and the luxuries of cities ; and now I bethink me. 
Sir Sluggard, that when the charitable keeper of this 
forest-walk left these dogs for my protection, and also 
those bundles of forage, he left me also some food, which, 
being unfit for my use, the very recollection of it had 
escaped me amid my more weighty meditations." 



IVANHOE. 253 

" I dare be sworn he did so," said the knight ; " I was 
convinced that there was better food in the cell, Holy 
Clerk, since you first doffed your cowl. — ^Your keeper is 
ever a jovial fellow ; and none who beheld thy grinders 
contending with these pease, and thy throat flooded with 
this ungenial element, could see thee doomed to such 
horse-provender and horse-beverage," (pointing to the 
provisions upon the table,) " and refrain from mending 
thy cheer. Let us see the keeper's bounty, therefore, 
without delay." 

The hermit cast a wistful look upon the knight, in 
which there was a sort of comic expression of hesitation, 
as if uncertain how far he should act prudently in trusting 
his guest. There was, however, as much of bold frank- 
ness in the knight's countenance as was possible to be ex- 
pressed by features. His smile, too, had something in it 
irresistibly comic, and gave an assurance of faith and 
loyalty, with which his host could not refrain from 
sympathizing. 

After exchanging a mute glance or two, the hermit 
went to the farther side of the hut, and opened a hutch, 
which was concealed with great care and some ingenuity. 
Out of the recesses of a dark closet, into which this aper- 
ture gave admittance, he brought a large pasty, baked 
in a pewter platter of unusual dimensions. This mighty 
dish he placed before his guest, who, using his poniard to 
cut it open, lost no time in making himself acquainted 
with its contents. 

" How long is it since the good keeper has been here ? '* 
said the knight to his host, after having swallowed several 
hasty morsels of this reinforcement to the hermit's good 
cheer. 

" About two months," answered the father, hastily. 



254 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

" B J the true Lord," answered the knight, " everything 
in your hermitage is miraculous, Holy Clerk ! for I would 
have been sworn that the fat buck which furnished this 
venison had been running on foot within the week." 

The hermit was somewhat discountenanced by this 
observation; and, moreover, he had made but a poor 
figure while gazing on the diminution of the pasty on 
which his guest was making desperate inroads ; a warfare 
in which his previous profession of abstinence left him no 
pretext for joining. 

" I have been in Palestine, Sir Clerk," said the knight, 
stopping short of a sudden, " and I bethink me it is a 
custom there that every host who entertains a guest shall 
assure him of the wholesomeness of his food, by partak- 
ing of it along with him. Far be it from me to suspect 
so holy a man of aught inhospitable, nevertheless I will 
be highly bound to you would you comply with this East- 
ern custom." 

" To ease your unnecessary scruples, Sir Knight, I will 
for once depart from my rule," replied the hermit. And 
as there were no forks in those days, his clutches were 
instantly in the bowels of the pasty. 

The ice of ceremony being once broken, it seemed 
matter of rivalry between the guest and the entertainer 
which should display the best appetite ; and although the 
former had probably fasted longest, yet the hermit fairly 
surpassed him. 

" Holy Clerk," said the knight, when his hunger was 
appeased, " I would gage my good horse yonder against 
a zecchin, that that same honest keeper to whom we are 
obliged for the venison has left thee a stoup of wine or a 
runlet of canary, or some such trifle, by way of ally to 
this noble pasty. This would be a circumstance, doubt- 



IVANHOE. 255 

less, totally unworthy to dwell in the memory of so rigid 
an anchorite ; yet, I think, were you to search yonder 
crypt once more you would find that I am right in my 
conjecture." 

The hermit replied by a grin : and returning to the 
hutch, he produced a leathern bottle, which might contain 
about four quarts. He also brought forth two large 
drinking cups, made out of the horn of the urus, and 
hooped with silver. Having made this goodly provision 
for washing down the supper, he seemed to think no 
farther ceremonious scruple necessary on his part ; but 
filling both cups, and saying, in the Saxon fashion, 
^' Woes hael, Sir Sluggish Knight ? " he emptied his own 
at a draught. 

^' Drinc hael, Holy Clerk of Copmanhurst ! " an- 
swered the warrior, and did his host reason in a similar 
brimmer. 

" Holy Clerk," said the stranger, after the first cup 
was thus swallowed, " I cannot but marvel that a man 
possessed pf such thews and sinews as thine, and who 
therewithal shews the talent of so goodly a trencher-man, 
should think of abiding by himself in this wilderness. In 
my judgment, you are fitter to keep a castle or a fort, 
eating of the fat and drinking of the strong, than to live 
here upon pulse and water, or even upon the charity of 
the keeper. At least, were I as thou, I should find 
myself both disport and plenty out of the king's deer. 
There is many a goodly herd in these forests, and a buck 
will never be missed that goes to the use of Saint Dun- 
stan's Chaplain." 

" Sir Sluggish Knight," replied the Clerk, " these are 
dangerous words, and I pray you to forbear them. I am 
true hermit to the king and law, and were I to spoil my 



256 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

liege's game, I should be sure of the prison, and, an my 
gown saved me not, were in some peril of hanging." 

" Nevertheless, were I as thou," said the knight, " I 
would take my walk by moonlight, when foresters and 
keepers were warm in bed, and ever and anon, — as I pat- 
tered my prayers — I would let fly a shaft among the 
herds of dun deer that feed in the glades — Resolve 
me. Holy Clerk, hast thou never practised such a pas- 
time?" 

" Friend Sluggard," answered the hermit, " thou hast 
seen all that can concern thee of my housekeeping, and 
something more than he deserves who takes up his quar- 
ters by violence. Credit me, it is better to enjoy the 
good which God sends thee, than to be impertinently 
curious how it comes. Fill thy cup and welcome ; and 
do not, I pray thee, by farther impertinent inquiries put 
me to shew that thou couldst hardly have made good thy 
lodging had I been earnest to oppose thee." 

" By my faith," said the knight, " thou makest me more 
curious than ever ! Thou art the most mysterious hermit 
I ever met ; and I will know more of thee ere we part. 
As for thy threats, know, holy man, thou speakest to one 
whose trade it is to find out danger wherever it is to be 
met with." 

" Sir Sluggish Knight, I drink to thee," said the her- 
mit, " respecting thy valour much, but deeming wondrous 
slightly of thy discretion. If thou wilt take equal arms 
Vitli me, I will give thee, in all friendship and brotherly 
love, such sufiicing penance and complete absolution, that 
thou shalt not for the next twelve months, sin the sin of 
excess and curiosity." 

The knight pledged him, and desired him to came his 
weapons. 



IVANHOE. 257 

^* There is none," replied the hermit, " from the scissors 
of Delilah, and the tenpenny nail of Jael, to the scimitar 
of Goliah, at which I am not a match for thee — But, if I 
am to make the election, what sajest thou, good friend, to 
these trinkets." 

Thus speaking, he opened another hutch, and took out 
from it a couple of broadswords and bucklers, such as 
were used by the yeomanry of the period. The knight, 
wlio watched his motions, observed that this second place 
of concealment was furnished with two or three good 
long-bows, a cross-bow, a bundle of bolts for the latter, 
and half-a-dozen sheaves of arrows for the former. A 
harp, and other matters of very uncanonical appearance, 
were also visible when this dark recess was opened. 

" I promise thee, brother Clerk," said he, " I will ask 
thee no more offensive questions. The contents of that 
cupboard are an answer to all my inquiries ; and I see a 
weapon there " (here he stooped and took out the harp) 
" on which I would more gladly prove my skill with thee, 
than at the sword and buckler." 

" I hope. Sir Knight," said the hermit, " thou hast 
given no good reason for thy surname of the Sluggard. 
I do promise thee I suspect thee grievously. Neverthe- 
less, thou art my guest, and I will not put thy manhood 
to the proof without thine own free will. Sit thee down, 
then, and fill thy cup ; let us drink, sing, and be merry. 
If thou knowest ever a good lay, thou shalt be welcome 
to a nook of pasty at Copmanhurst, so long as I serve the 
chapel of Saint Dunstan, which, please God, shall be till I 
change my gray covering for one of green turf. But 
come, fill a fiagon, for it will crave some time to tune the 
harp ; and nought pitches the voice and sharpens the ear 
like a cup of wine. For my part, I love to feel the grape 

VOL. xvii. 17 



258 



WAVERLET NOVELS. 



at my very finger ends before they make the harp-strings 
tinkle." * 

* The Jolly Hermit. — All readers, however slightly acquainted 
with black letter, must recognise in the Clerk of Copmanhurst, Friar 
Tuck, the buxom Confessor of Robin Hood's gang, the Curtal Friar 
of Fountain's Abbey. 




IVANHOE. 259 



CHAPTER XVII. 

At ere, within yon stndious nook, 
I ope my brass-embossed book, 
Portray'd with many a holy deed 
Of martyrs crown'd with heavenly meed; 
Then, as my taper waxes dim, 
Chant, ere I sleep, my measured hymn. 
« # « « « 

Who but would cast his pomp away, 
To take my staff and amice gray, 
And to the world's tumultuous stage, 
Prefer the peaceful Hermitage ? 

Wabton. 

Notwithstanding the prescription of the genial her- 
mit, with which his guest willingly compKed, he found it 
no easy matter to bring the harp to harmony. 

"Methinks, holy father," said he, "the instrument 
wants one string, and the rest have been somewhat mis- 
used." 

" Ay, mark'st thou that ? " replied the hermit ; " that 
shews thee a master of the craft. Wine and wassail," 
he added, gravely casting up his eyes — " all the fault of 
wine and wassail ! — I told Allan-a-Dale, the northern 
minstrel, that he would damage the harp if he touched it 
after the seventh cup, but he would not be controlled— 
Friend, I drink to thy successful performance." 

So saying, he took off his cup with much gravity, at 
the same time shaking his head at the intemperance of 
the Scottish harper. 



260 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

The knight, in the meantime, had brought the strings 
into some order, and, after a short prelude, asked his host 
whether he would choose a sirvente in the language of oCj 
or a lai in the language of ouiy or a virelai^ or a ballad in 
the vulgar English.* 

" A ballad, a ballad," said the hermit, " against all the 
ocs and ouis of France. Downright English am I, Sir 
Knight, and downright English was my patron Saint Dun- 
stan, and scorned oc and ow^, as he would have scorned 
the parings of the devil's hoof — downright English alone 
shall be sung in this cell." 

" I will assay, then," said the knight, " a ballad com- 
posed by a Saxon glee-man, whom I knew in Holy 
Land." 

It speedily appeared, that if the knight was not a com- 
plete master of the minstrel art, his taste for it had at 
least been cultivated under the best instructors. Art had 
taught him to soften the faults of a voice which had little 
compass, and was naturally rough rather than mellow, 
and, in short, had done all that culture can do in sup- 
plying natural deficiencies. His performance, therefore, 
might have been termed very respectable by abler judges 

* The realm of France, it is well known, was divided betwixt tlie 
Norman and Teutonic race, who spoke the language in which the 
word Yes is pronounced as oui^ and the inhabitants of the southern 
regions, whose speech, bearing some affinity to the Italian, pronounced 
the same word oc. The poets of the former race were called Minstrels, 
and their poems Lays : those of the latter were termed Troubadours, 
and their compositions called sirvenies, and other names. Richard, a 
professed admirer of the joyous science in all its branches, could 
imitate either the minstrel or troubadour. It is less likely that he 
should have been able to compose or sing an English ballad ; yet so 
much do we wish to assimilate Him of the Lion Heart to the band of 
warriors whom he led, that the anachronism, if there be one, may 
readily be forgiven. 



IVANHOE. 261 

than the hermit, especially as the knight threw into the 
notes now a degree of spirit, and now of plaintive enthu* 
siasm, which gave force and energy to the verses which 
he sung. 

THE^ CRUSADER'S RETURN. 

1. 

High deeds achieved of knightly fame, 
From Palestine the champion came ; 
The cross upon his shoulders borne, 
Battle and blast had dimm'd and torn. 
Each dint upon his batter' d shield 
Was token of a foughten field ; 
And thus, beneath his lady's bower, 
He sung, as fell the twilight hour: — 

2. 

" Joy to the fair ! — thy knight behold. 
Return' d from yonder land of gold ; 
No wealth he brings, nor wealth can need. 
Save his good arms and battle-steed ; 
His spurs, to dash against a foe. 
His lance and sword to lay him low ; 
Such all the trophies of his toil. 
Such — and the hope of Tekla's smile ! 

3. 
Joy to the fair ! whose constant knight 
Her favour fired to feats of might; 
Unnoted shall she not remain. 
Where meet the bright and noble train ; 
Minstrel shall sing and herald tell — 
' Mark yonder maid of beauty well, 
'Tis she for whose bright eyes was won 
The Usted field at Askalon I ' 

4. 
" * Note well her smile ! — it edged the blade 
Which fifty wives to widows made. 
When, vain his strength and ^lahound's spel; 
Tconium's tm'ban'd Soldan fell. 



262 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

Seest thou her locks, whose sunny glow 
Half shews, half shades, her neck of snow? 
Twines not of them one golden thread, 
But for its sake a Paynim bled.' 

5. 

" Joy to the fair ! — ^my name unknown, 
Each deed, and all its praise thine own: 
Then, oh! unbar this chunish gate. 
The night dew falls, the hour is late. 
Inured to Syria's glowing breath, 
I feel the north breeze chiU as death; 
Let grateful love queU maiden shame, 
And grant him bliss who brings thee fame." 

During this performance, the hermit demeaned him- 
Belf much like a first-rate critic of the present day at a 
new opera. He reclined back upon his seat, with his 
eyes half shut ; now, folding his hands and twisting his 
thumbs, he seemed absorbed in attention, and anon, 
balancing his expanded palms, he gently flourished them 
in time to the music. At one or two favourite cadences, 
he threw in a little assistance of his own, where the 
knight's voice seemed unable to carry the air so high as 
his worshipful taste approved. When the song was 
ended, the anchorite emphatically declared it a good one, 
and well sung. 

" And yet," said he, " I think my Saxon countrymen 
had herded long enough with the Normans, to fall into 
the tone of their melancholy ditties. "What took the 
honest knight from home ? or what could he expect but 
to find his mistress agreeably engaged with a rival on his 
return, and his serenade, as they call it, as little regarded 
as the caterwauling of a cat in the gutter ? Nevertheless, 
Sir Knight, I drink this cup to thee, to the success of all 
true lovers — I fear you are none," he added, on observing 



IVANHOE. 263 

that the knight (whose brain began to be heated with these 
repeated draughts) qualified his flagon with the water 
pitcher. 

"Why," said the knight, "did you not tell me that 
this water was from the well of your blessed patron, 
Saint Dunstan?" 

" Ay, truly," said the hermit, " and many a hundred 
of pagans did he baptize there, but I never heard that 
he drank any of it. Every thing should be put to its 
proper use in this world. Saint Dunstan knew, as well 
as any one, the prerogatives of a jovial friar." 

And so saying, he reached the harp, and entertained 
his guest with the following characteristic song, to a sort 
of derry-down chorus, appropriate to an old English 
ditty.* 

THE BAREFOOTED FRIAR. 

1. 

I'll give thee, good fellow, a twelvemonth or twain, 
To search Europe through, from Byzantium to Spain; 
But ne'er shall you find, should you search till you tu'e, 
So happy a man as the Barefooted Friar. 

2. 

Your knight for his lady pricks forth in career. 

And is brought home at even-song prick' d through with a spear; 

I confess him in has^e — for his lady desires 

No comfort on earth sare the Barefooted Friar's. 

3. 

Your monarch? — Pshaw! many a prince has been known 
To barter his robes for our cowl and our gown, 

* It may be proper to remind the reader, that the chorus of " derry 
down " is supposed to be as ancient, not only as the times of the 
Heptarchy, but as those of the Druids, and to have furnished the 
chorus to the hymns of those venerable persons when they went to 
the wood to gather mistletoe. 



264 WAVERLEY NOVELS 

But which of US e'er felt the idle desire 

To exchange for a crown the gray hood of a Friar I 

4. 
The Friar has walked out, and where'er he has gone, 
The land and its fatness is mark'd for his own; 
He can roam where he lists, he can stop when he tires. 
For every man's house is the Barefooted Friar's. 

6. 

He's expected at noon, and no wight till he comes 
May profane the great chair, or the porridge of plums ; 
For the best of the cheer, and the seat by the fire, 
Is the undenied right of the Barefooted Friar. 

6. 

He's expected at night, and the pasty's made hot, 
They broach the brown ale, and they fill the black pot, 
And the goodwife would wish the goodman in the mire, 
Ere he lack'd a soft pillow, the Barefooted Friar. 

7. 
Long flourish the sandal, the cord, and the cope. 
The dread of the devil, and trust of the Pope; 
For to gather life's roses, unscathed by the briar, 
Is granted alone to the Barefooted Friar. 

" By my troth," said the knight, " thou hast sung well 
and lustily, and in high praise of thine order. And, 
talking of the devil, Holy Clerk, are you not afraid he 
may pay you a visit during some of your uncanonical 
pastimes ? " 

" I uncanonical ! " answered the hermit ; " I scorn the 
charge — I scorn it with ray heels ! — I serve the duty of 
my chapel duly and truly — Two masses daily, morning 
and evening, primes, noons, and vespers, aves^ credos^ 
paters " 

" Excepting moonlight nights, when the venison is in 
season," said his guest. 



IVANHOE. 265 

^^ Exceptis excipiendisy^' replied the hermit, "as our 
old abbot taught me to say, when impertinent laymen 
fihould ask me if I kept every punctilio of mine order." 

" True, holy father," said the knight ; " but the devil 
is apt to keep an eye on such exceptions ; he goes about, 
thou knowest, Uke a roaring lion." 

" Let him roar here if he dares," said the friar ; " a 
touch of my cord will make him roar as loud as the tongs 
of Saint Dunstan himself did. I never feared man, and 
I as little fear the devil and his imps. Saint Dunstan, 
Saint Dubric, Saint Winibald, Saint Winifred, Saint 
Swibert, Saint Willick, not forgetting Saint Thomas a 
Kent, and my own poor merits to speed, I defy every 
devil of them, come cut and long tail. — But to let you 
into a secret, I never speak upon such subjects, my friend, 
until after morning vespers." 

He changed the conversation ; fast and furious grew 
the mirth of the parties, and many a song was exchanged 
betwixt them, when their revels were interrupted by a 
loud knocking at the door of the hermitage. 

The occasion of this interruption we can only explain 
by resuming the adventures of another set of our charac- 
ters; for, like old Ariosto, we do not pique ourselves 
upon continuing uniformly to keep company with anj 
one personage of our drama. 



266 WAVERLET NOVELS. 



CHAPTER XVm. 

Away ! our journey lies through dell and dingle, 
Where the blithe fawn trips by its timid mother, 
Where the broad oak, with intercepting boughs, 
Chequers the sunbeam in the greensward alley— 
Up and away ! — for lovely paths are these 
To tread, when the glad sun is on his throne ; 
Less pleasant, and less safe, when Cynthia's lamp 
With doubtful glimmer lights the dreary forest. 

Ettrick Foeest. 

• When Cedric the Saxon saw his son drop down sense* 
less in the lists at Ashby, his first impulse was to order 
him into the custody and care of his own attendants, but 
the words choked in his throat. He could not bring 
himself to acknowledge, in presence of such an assembly, 
the son whom he had renounced and disinherited. He 
ordered, however, Oswald to keep an eye upon him ; and 
directed that officer, with two of his serfs, to convey 
Ivanhoe to Ashby as soon as the crowd had dispersed. 
Oswald, however, was anticipated in this good office. 
The crowd dispersed, indeed, but the knight was nowhere 
to be seen. 

It was in vain that Cedric's cupbearer looked around 
for his young master — he saw the bloody spot on which 
he had lately sunk down, but himself he saw no longer ; 
it seemed as if the fairies had conveyed him from the 
spot. Perhaps Oswald (for the Saxons were very super- 
stitious) might have adopted some such hypothesis, to 



IVANHOE. 267 

account for Ivanhoe's disappearance, had he not suddenly 
cast his eye upon a person attired like a squire, in whom 
he recognised the features of his fellow-servant Gurth. 
Anxious concerning his master's fate, and in despair at 
his sudden disappearance, the translated swineherd was 
searching for him everywhere, and had neglected, in 
doing so, the concealment on which his own safety 
depended. Oswald deemed it his duty to secure Gurth, 
as a fugitive of whose fate his master was to judge. 

Kenewing his inquiries concerning the fate of Ivanhoe, 
the only information which the cupbearer could collect 
from the bystanders was, that the knight had been raised 
with care by certain well-attired grooms, and placed in a 
litter belonging to a lady among the spectators, which had 
immediately transported him out of the press. Oswald, 
on receiving this intelligence, resolved to return to his 
master for farther instructions, carrying along with him 
Gurth, whom he considered in some sort as a deserter 
from the service of Cedric. 

The Saxon had been under very intense and agonizing 
apprehensions concerning his son ; for Nature had asserted 
her rights, in spite of the patriotic stoicism which laboured 
to disown her. But no sooner was he informed that 
Ivanhoe was in careful, and probably in friendly hands, 
than the paternal anxiety which had been excited by the 
dubiety of his fate, gave way anew to the feeling of injured 
pride and resentment, at what he termed Wilfred's filial 
disobedience. " Let him wander his way," said he — " let 
those leech his wounds for whose sake he encountered 
them. He is fitter to do the juggling tricks of the Norman 
chivalry than to maintain the fame and honour of his 
English ancestry with the glaive and brown-bill, the good 
old weapons of the country." 



268 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

" If, to maintain the honour of ancestry," said Rowena, 
who was present, " it is sufficient to be wise in council and 
brave in execution — to be boldest among the bold, and 
gentlest among the gentle, I know no voice, save his 
father's " 

" Be silent. Lady Kowena ! — on this subject only I 
hear you not. Prepare yourself for the Prince's festival : 
we have been summoned thither with unwonted circum- 
stance of honour and of courtesy, such as the haughty 
Normans have rarely used to our race since the fatal 
day of Hastings. Thither will I go, were it only to 
shew these proud Normans how little the fate of a 
son, who could defeat their bravest, can affect a 
Saxon." 

" Thither," said Rowena, " do I not go ; and I pray 
you to beware, lest what you mean for courage and ob- 
stinacy, shall be accounted hardness of heart." 

" Remain at home, then, ungrateful lady," answered 
Cedric ; " thine is the hard heart, which can sacrifice the 
weal of an oppressed people to an idle and unauthorized 
attachment. I seek the noble Athelstane, and with him 
attend the banquet of John of Anjou." 

He went accordingly to the banquet, of which we have 
already mentioned the principal events. Immediately 
upon retiring from the castle, the Saxon thanes, with 
their attendants, took horse ; and it was during the bustle 
which attended their doing so, that Cedric, for the first 
time, cast his eyes upon the deserter Gurth. The noble 
Saxon had returned from the banquet, as we have seen, 
in no very placid humour, and wanted but a pretext for 
wreaking his anger upon some one. " The gyves ! " he 
said, " the gyves ! — Oswald — Hundibert ! — Dogs and vil- 
lains ! — why leave ye the knave unfettered ? " 



IVANHOE. 269 

Without daring to remonstrate, the companions of 
Gurth bound him with a halter, as the readiest 
cord which occurred. He submitted to the opera^ 
tion without remonstrance, except that, darting a re- 
proachful look at his master, he said, " This comes 
of loving your flesh and blood better than mine 
own." 

" To horse, and forward ! " said Cedric. 

" It is -indeed full time," said the noble Athelstane ; 
** for, if we ride not the faster, the worthy Abbot Wal- 
theoff 's preparations for a rere-supper* will be altogether 
spoiled." 

The travellers, however, used such speed as to reach 
the convent of Saint Withold's before the apprehended 
evil took place. The Abbot himself, of ancient Saxon 
descent, received the noble Saxons with the profuse and 
exuberant hospitality of their nation, wherein they in* 
dulged to a late, or rather an early hour ; nor did they 
take leave of their reverend host the next morning 
until they had shared with him a sumptuous refec- 
tion. 

As the cavalcade left the court of the monastery, an 
incident happened somewhat alarming to the Saxons, who, 
of all people of Europe, were most addicted to a super-* 
stitious observance of omens, and to whose opinions can 
be traced most of those notions upon such subjects still 
to be found among our popular antiquities. For the 
Normans being a mixed race, and better informed accord- 
ing to the information of the times, had lost most of the 
superstitious prejudices which their ancestors had brought 

* A rere-STipper was a night meal, and sometimes signified a col- 
lation, which was given at a late hour, after the regular supper had 
made its appearance. — L. T. 



270 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

from Scandinavia, and piqued themselves upon thinking 
freely on such topics. 

In the present instance, the apprehension of impending 
evil was inspired by no less respectable a prophet than a 
large lean black dog, which, sitting upright, howled most 
piteously as the foremost rillers left the gate, and 
presently afterwards, barking wildly, and jumping 
to and fro, seemed bent upon attaching itself to the 
party. 

" I like not that music, father Cedric," said Athelstane ; 
for by this title of respect he was accustomed to address 
him. 

" Nor I either, uncle," said Wamba ; " I greatly fear 
we shall have to pay the piper." 

" In my mind," said Athelstane, upon whose memory 
the Abbot's good ale (for Burton was already famous for 
that genial liquor) had made a favourable impression — 
" in my mind we had better turn back, and abide with the 
Abbot until the afternoon. It is unlucky to travel where 
your path is crossed by a monk, a hare, or a howling dog, 
until you have eaten your next meal. 

" Away ! " said Cedric, impatiently ; " the day is already 
too short for our journey. For the dog, I know it to be 
the cur of the runaway slave Gurth, a useless fugitive 
like its master." 

So saying, and rising at the same time in his stirrups, 
impatient at the interruption of his journey, he launched 
his javehn at poor Fangs — for Fangs it was, who, having 
traced his master thus far upon his stolen expedition, had 
here lost him, and was now, in his uncouth way, rejoicing 
at his reappearance. The javelin inflicted a wound upon 
the animal's shoulder, and narrowly missed pinning hinj 
to the earth ; and Fangs fled howling from the presence 



IVANHOE. 271 

of the enraged thane. Gurth's heart swelled within him ; 
for he felt this meditated slaughter of his faithful adherent 
in a degree much deeper than the harsh treatment he had 
himself received. Having in vain attempted to raise his 
hand to his eyes, he said to Wamba, who, seeing his 
master's ill humour, had prudently retreated to the 
rear, " I pray thee, do me the kindness to wipe my eyes 
with the skirt of thy mantle ; the dust offends me, and 
these bonds will not let me help myself one way or 
another." 

Wamba did him the service he required, and they rode 
side by side for some time, during which Gurth main- 
tained a moody silence. At length he could repress his 
feelings no longer. 

" Friend Wamba," said he, " of all those who are fools 
enough to serve Cedric, thou alone hast dexterity enough 
to make thy folly acceptable to him. Go to him, there- 
fore, and tell him that neither for love nor fear will Gurth 
serve him longer. He may strike the head from me — he 
may scourge me — he may load me with irons — but hence- 
forth he shall never compel me either to love or to obey 
him. Go to him, then, and tell him that Gurth, the 
son of Beowulph, renounces his service." 

" Assuredly," said Wamba, " fool as I am, I shall not 
do your fool's errand. Cedric hath another javelin stuck 
into his girdle, and thou knowest he does not always miss 
his mark." 

" I care not," repHed Gurth, " how soon he makes a 
mark of me. Yesterday he left Wilfred, my young mas- 
ter, in his blood. To-day he has striven to kill before my 
face the only other living creature that ever shewed me 
kindness. By Saint Edmund, Saint Dunstan, Saint 
Withold, Saint Edward the Confessor, and every other 



272 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

Saxon saint in the calendar," (for Cedric never swore by 
any that was not of Saxon lineage, and all his household 
had the same limited devotion,) " I will never forgive 
him!" 

" To my thinking now," said the Jester, who was fre- 
quently wont to act as peace-maker in the family, " our 
master did not propose to hurt Fangs, but only to aifright 
him. For, if you observed, he rose in his stirrups, as 
thereby meaning to overcast the mark ; and so he would 
have done, but Fangs happening to bound up at the very 
moment, received a scratch, which I will be bound to 
heal with a penny's breadth of tar." 

"If I thought so," said Gurth— "if I could but think 
so — but no — I saw the javelin was well aimed — I heard 
it whizz through the air with all the wrathful malevolence 
of him who cast it, and it quivered after it had pitched 
in the ground, as if with regret for having missed its 
mark. By the hog dear to Saint Anthony, I renounce 
him!" 

And the indignant swineherd resumed his sullen silence, 
which no efforts of the Jester could again induce him to 
break. 

Meanwhile Cedric and Athelstane, the leaders of the 
troop, conversed together on the state of the land, on the 
dissensions of the royal family, on the feuds and quarrels 
among the Norman nobles, and on the chance which 
there was that the oppressed Saxons might be able to 
free themselves from the yoke of the Normans, or at 
least to elevate themselves into national consequence and 
independence, during the civil convulsions which were 
/likely to ensue. On this subject Cedric was all anima- 
tion. The restoration of the independence of his race 
was the idol of his heart, to which he had wUlingly sacri- 



IVANHOE. 273 

ficed domestic happiness and the interests of his son. 
But, in order to achieve this great revolution in favour 
of the native English, it was necessary that they should 
be united among themselves, and act under an acknowl- 
edged head. The necessity of choosing their chief from 
the Saxon blood royal was not only evident in itself, but 
had been made a solemn condition by those whom Cedric 
had entrusted with his secret plans and hopes. Athel- 
stane had this quality at least ; and though he had few 
mental accomplishments or talents to recommend him as 
a leader, he had still a goodly person, was no coward, 
had been accustomed to martial exercises, and seemed 
willing to defer to the advice of counsellors more wise 
than himself. Above all, he was known to be liberal 
and hospitable, and believed to be good-natured. But 
whatever pretensions Athelstane had to be considered as 
head of the Saxon confederacy, many of that nation were 
disposed to prefer to his the title of the Lady Rowena, 
who drew her descent from Alfred, and whose father, 
having been a chief renowned for wisdom, courage, and 
generosity, his memory was highly honoured by his 
oppressed countrymen. 

It would have been no difficult thing for Cedric, had 
he been so disposed, to have placed himself at the head 
of a third party, as formidable at least as any of the 
others. To counterbalance their royal descent, he had 
courage, activity, energy, and, above all, that devoted 
attachment to the cause which had procured him the 
epithet of The Saxon, and his birth was inferior to 
none, excepting only that of Athelstane and his ward* 
These qualities, however, were unalloyed by the slightest 
shade of selfishness ; and, instead of dividing yet farther 
his weakened nation by forming a faction of his own, it 

VOL. XVII. 18 



274 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

was a leading part of Cedric's plan to extinguish that 
which already existed, by promoting a marriage l^etwixt 
Eowena and Athelstane. An obstacle occurred to this 
his favourite project, in the mutual attachment of his 
ward and his son; and hence the original cause 
of the banishment of Wilfred from the house of his 
father. 

This stern measure Cedric had adopted, in hopes that, 
during Wilfred's absence, Rowena might relinquish her 
preference, but in this hope he was disappointed ; a dis- 
appointment which might be attributed in part to the 
mode in which his ward had been educated. Cedric, to 
whom the name of Alfred was as that of a deity, had 
treated the sole remaining scion of that great monarch 
with a degree of observance, such as, perhaps, was in 
those days scarce- paid to an acknowledged princess. 
Rowena's will had been in almost all cases a law to his 
household ; and Cedric himself, as if determined that her 
sovereignty should be fully acknowledged within that 
little circle at least, seemed to take a pride in acting as 
the first of her subjects. Thus trained in the exercise 
not only of free will, but despotic authority, Rowena 
was, by her previous education, disposed both to resist 
and to resent any attempt to control her affections, or 
dispose of her hand contrary to her inclinations, and to 
assert her independence in a case in which even those 
females who have been trained up to obedience and sub- 
jection are not infrequently apt to dispute the authority 
of guardians and parents. The opinions which she felt 
strongly she avowed boldly ; and Cedric, who could not 
free himself from his habitual deference to her opinions, 
felt 'totally at a loss how to enforce his authority of 
guardian. 



IVANHOE. 275 

It was in vain that he attempted to dazzle her with the 
prospect of a visionary throne. Eowena, who possessed 
strong sense, neither considered his plan as practicable, 
nor as desirable, so far as she was concerned, could it 
have been achieved. Without attempting to conceal her 
avowed preference of Wilfred of Ivanhoe, she declared 
that, weie that favoured knight out of question, she would 
rather take refuge in a convent than share a throne with 
Athelstane, whom, having always despised, she now 
began, on account of the trouble she received on his 
account, thoroughly to detest. 

Nevertheless, Cedric, whose opinion of women's con- 
stancy was far from strong, persisted in using every means 
in his power to bring about the proposed match, in which 
he conceived he was rendering an important service to 
the Saxon cause. The sudden and romantic appearance 
of his son in the lists at Ashby he had justly regarded as 
almost a death's blow to his hopes. His paternal affec- 
tion, it is true, had for an instant gained the victory over 
pride and patriotism ; but both had returned in full force, 
and under their joint operation, he was now bent upon 
making a determined effort for the union of Athelstane 
and Rowena, together with expediting those other 
measures which seemed necessary to forward the restora- 
tion of Saxon independence. 

On this last subject, he was now labouring with Athel- 
stane, not without having reason, every now and then, 
to lament, like Hotspur, that he should have moved such 
a dish of skimmed milk to so honourable an action. 
Athelstane, it is true, was vain enough, and loved to 
have his ears tickled with tales of his high descent, and 
of his right by inheritance to homage and sovereignty. 
But his petty vanity was sufficiently gratified by receiving 



276 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

this homage at the hands of his immediate attendants, 
and of the Saxons who approached him. If he had the 
courage to encounter danger, he at least hated the trouble 
of going to seek it ; and while he agreed in the genera] 
principles laid down by Cedric concerning the claim of 
the Saxons to independence, and was still more easily 
convinced of his own title to reign over them when that 
independence should be attained, yet when the means of 
asserting these rights came to be discussed, he was still 
^Athelstane the Unready," slow, irresolute, procrasti- 
nating, and unenterprising. The warm and impassioned 
exhortations of Cedric had as little effect upon his impas- 
sive temper, as red-hot balls alighting in the water, which 
produce a little sound and smoke, and are instantly ex- 
tinguished. 

If, leaving this task, which might be compared to 
spurring a tired jade, or to hammering upon cold iron, 
Cedric fell back to his ward Rowena, he received little 
more satisfaction from conferring with her. For, as his 
presence interrupted the discourse between the lady and 
her favourite attendant upon the gallantry and fate of 
Wilfred, Elgitha failed not to revenge both her mistress 
and herself, by recurring to the overthrow of Athelstane 
in the lists, the most disagreeable subject which could 
greet the ears of Cedric. To this sturdy Saxon, there- 
fore, the day's journey was fraught with all manner of 
displeasure and discomfort ; so that he more than once 
internally cursed the tournament, and him who had pro- 
claimed it, together with his ^own folly in ever thinking 
of going thither. 

At noon, upon the motion of Athelstane, the travellers 
paused in a woodland shade by a fountain, to repose their 
horses and partake of some provisions, with which the 



IVANHOE. 



277 



hospitable Abbot had loaded a sumpter mule. Their 
repast was a pretty long one ; and these several interrup- 
tions rendered it impossible for them to hope to reach 
Rotherwood without travelling all night, a conviction 
which induced them to proceed on their way at a mora 
hasty pace than they had hitherto used. 




278 -WAVERLET NOVELS. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

A train of armed men, some noble dame 
Escorting, (so their scatter'd words discover'd, 
As unperceived I hung upon their rear,) 
Are close at hand, and mean to pass the night 
Within the castle. 

Obra, a Tragedt. 

The travellers had now reached the verge of the 
wooded country, and were about to plunge into its re- 
cesses, held dangerous at that time from the number of 
outlaws whom oppression and poverty had driven to 
despair, and who occupied the forests in such large bands 
as could easily bid defiance to the feeble police of the 
period. From these rovers, however, notwithstanding 
the lateness of the hour, Cedric and Athelstane accounted 
themselves secure, as they had in attendance ten ser- 
vants, besides Wamba and Gurth, whose aid could not be 
counted upon, the one being a jester and the other a 
captive. It may be added, that in travelling thus late 
through the forest, Cedric and Athelstane relied on their 
descent and character, as well as their courage. The out- 
laws, whom the severity of the forest laws had reduced 
to this roving and desperate mode of life, were chiefly 
peasants and yeomen of Saxon descent, and were gener- 
ally supposed to respect the persons and property of their 
countrymen. 

As the travellers journeyed on their way, they were 



IVANHOE. 279 

alarmed by repeated cries for assistance ; and when they 
rode up to the place from whence they came, they were 
surprised to find a horse-litter placed upon the ground, 
beside which sat a young woman, richly dressed in the 
Jewish fashion, while an old man, whose yellow cap pro- 
claimed him to belong to the same nation, walked up and 
down with gestures of the deepest despair, and wrung his 
hands, as if affected by some strange disaster. 

To the inquiries of Athelstane and Cedric, the old Jew 
could for some time only answer by invoking the protec- 
tion of all the patriarchs of the Old Testament suc- 
cessively against the sons of Ishmael, who were coming 
to smite them, hip and thigh, with the edge of the sword. 
When he began to come to himself out of this agony of 
terror, Isaac of York (for it was our old friend) was at 
length able to explain, that he had hired a body-guard of 
six men at Ashby, together with mules for carrying the 
litter of a sick friend. This party had undertaken to 
escort him as' far as Doncaster. They had come thus 
far in safety; but having received information from a 
wood-cutter that there was a strong band of outlaws 
lying in wait in the woods before them, Isaac's mercena- 
ries had not only taken flight, but had carried off with 
them the horses which bore the litter, and left the Jew 
and his daughter without the means either of defence or 
of retreat, to be plundered, and probably murdered, by 
the banditti, who they expected every moment would 
bring down upon them. "Would it but please your 
valours," added Isaac, in a tone of deep humiliation, " to 
permit the poor Jews to travel under your safeguard, I 
swear by the tables of our law, that never has favour 
been conferred upon a child of Israel since the days of our 
captivity, which shall be more gratefully acknowledged." 



280 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

" Dog of a Jew ! " said Athelstane, whose memory was 
of that petty kind which stores up trifles of all kinds, but 
particularly trifling offences, " dost not remember how 
thou didst beard us in the gallery at the tilt-yard? Fight 
or floe, or compound with the outlaws as thou dost list ; 
ask neither aid nor company from us ; and if they rob 
only such as thee, who rob all the world, I, for mine own 
share, shall hold them right honest folk." 

Cedric did not assent to the severe proposal of his 
companion. "We shall do better," said he, "to leave 
them two of our attendants and two horses to convey 
them back to the next village. It will diminish our 
strength but little ; and with your good sword, noble 
Athelstane, and the aid of those who remain, it will be 
light work for us to face twenty of those runagates." 

Rowena, somewhat alarmed by the mention of outlaws 
in force, and so near them, strongly seconded the proposal 
of her guardian. But Rebecca, suddenly quitting her 
dejected posture, and making her way through the attend- 
ants to the palfrey of the Saxon lady, knelt down, and, 
after the Oriental fashion in addressing superiors, kissed 
the hem of Rowena's garment. Then rising, and throw- 
ing back her veil, she implored her, in the great name 
of the God whom they both worshipped, and by that 
revelation of the law upon Mount Sinai in which they 
both believed, that she would have compassion upon 
them, and suffer them to go forward under their safe- 
guard. " It is not for myself that I pray this favour," 
said Rebecca ; " nor is it even for that poor old man. I 
know that to wrong and to spoil our nation is a light 
fault, if not a merit with the Christians ; and what is it 
to us whether it be done in the city, in the desert, or in 
the field ? But it is in the name of one dear to many, 



IVANHOE. 281 

and dear even to you, that I beseech you to let this sick 
person be transported with care and tenderness under 
your protection. For, if evil chance him, the last moment 
of your life would be imbittered with regret for denying 
that which I ask of you." 

The noble and solemn air with which Rebecca mads 
this appeal, gave it double weight with the fair Saxon. 

" The man is old and feeble," she said to her guardian, 
" the maiden young and beautiful, their friend sick and in 
peril of his life — Jews though they be, we cannot as 
Christians leave them in this extremity. Let them un- 
load two of the sumpter-mules, and put the baggage be- 
hind two of the serfs. The mules may transport the 
litter, and we have led horses for the old man and his 
daughter." 

Cedric readily assented to what she proposed, and 
Athelstane only added the condition, " that they should 
travel in the rear of the whole party, where Wamba," 
he said, "might attend them with his shield of boar's 
brawn." 

" I have left my shield in the tilt-yard," answered the 
Jester, " as has been the fate of many a better knight 
than myself." 

Athelstane coloured deeply, for such had been his own 
fate on the last day of the tournament ; while Rowena, 
who was pleased in the same proportion, as if to make 
amends for the brutal jest of her unfeeling suitor, requested 
Rebecca to ride by her side. v 

" It were not fit I should do so," answered Rebecca, 
with proud humility, " where my society might be held a 
disgrace to my protectress." 

By this time the change of baggage was hastily 
achieved ; for the single word " outlaws " rendered every 



282 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

one sufficiently alert, and the approach of twilight made 
the sound yet more impressive. Amid the bustle, Gurth 
was taken from horseback, in the course of which re- 
moval he prevailed upon the Jester to slack the cord 
with which his arms were bound. It was so negligently 
refastened, perhaps intentionally, on the part of Wamba, 
that Gurth found no difficulty in freeing his arms alto- 
gether from bondage, and then, gliding into the thicket, 
he made his escape from the party. 

The bustle had been considerable, and it was some 
time before Gurth was missed ; for, as he was to be 
placed for the rest of the journey behind a servant, every 
one supposed that some other of his companions had him 
under his custody, and when it began to be whispered 
among them that Gurth had actually disappeared, they 
were under such immediate expectation of an attack from 
the outlaws, that it was not held convenient to pay much 
attention to the circumstance. 

The path upon which the party travelled was now so 
narrow, as not to admit, with any sort of convenience, 
above two riders abreast, and began to descend into a 
dingle, traversed by a brook whose banks were broken, 
Bwampy, and overgrown with dwarf willows. Cedric and 
Athelstane, who were at the head of their retinue, saw 
the risk of being attacked at this pass ; but neither of 
them having had much practice in war, no better mode 
of preventing the danger occurred to them than that they 
should hasten through the defile as fast as possible. Ad- 
vancing, therefore, without much order, they had just 
crossed the brook with a part of their followers, when 
they were assailed in front, flank, and rear at once, with 
an impetuosity to which, in their confused and ill-pre- 
pared condition, it was impossible to offer effectual resist- 



IVANHOE. 283 

ance. The shout of " A white dragon !■— a white dragon ! 
— Saint George for merrj England ! " war-cries adopted 
by the assailants, as belonging to their assumed character 
of Saxon outlaws, was heard on every side, and on every 
side enemies appeared with a rapidity of advance and 
attack which seemed to multiply their numbers. 

Both the Saxon chiefs were made prisoners at the 
same moment, and each under circumstances expressive 
of his character. Cedric, the instant an enemy appeared, 
launched at him his remaining javelin, which, taking bet- 
ter effect than that which he had hurled at Fangs, nailed 
the man against an oak tree that happened to be close 
behind him. Thus far successful, Cedric spurred his 
horse against a second, drawing his sword at the same 
time, and striking with such inconsiderate fury, that his 
weapon encountered a thick branch which hung over 
him, and he was disarmed by the violence of his own 
blow. He was instantly made prisoner, and pulled from 
his horse by two or three of the banditti who crowded 
around him. Athelstane shared his captivity, his bridle 
having been seized, and he himself forcibly dismounted, 
long before he could draw his weapon, or assume any 
posture of effectual defence. 

The attendants, embarrassed with baggage, surprised 
and terrified at the fate of their master, fell an easy prey 
to the assailants ; while the Lady Rowena, in the centre 
of the cavalcade, and the Jew and his daughter in the 
rear, experienced the same misfortune. 

Of all the train none escaped except Wamba, who 
shewed upon the occasion much more courage than those 
who pretended to greater sense. He possessed himself 
of a sword belonging to one of the domestics, who was 
just drawing it with a tardy and irresolute hand, laid it 



284 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

about him like a lion, drove back several who approached 
him, and made a brave though ineffectual attempt to suc- 
cour his master. Finding himself overpowered, the Jester 
at length threw himself from his horse, plunged into the 
thicket, and favoured by the general confusion, escaped 
from the scene of action. 

Yet the valiant Jester, as soon as he found himself safe, 
hesitated more than once whether he should not turn back 
and share the captivity of a master to whom he was sin- 
cerely attached. 

" I have heard men talk of the blessings of freedom," 
he said to himself; " but I wish any wise man would teach 
me what use to make of it, now that I have it.'* 

As he pronounced these words aloud, a voice very near 
him called out, in a low and cautious tone, " Wamba ! " 
and, at the same time, a dog, which he recognised to be 
Fangs, jumped up and fawned upon him. " Gurth ! " 
answered Wamba, with the same caution, and the swine- 
herd immediately stood before him. 

" What is the matter ? " said he eagerly ; " what mean 
these cries, and that clashing of swords ? " 

" Only a trick of the times," said Wamba ; " they are 
all prisoners." 

" Who are prisoners ? " exclaimed Gurth impatiently. 

" My lord, and my lady, and Athelstane, and Hundi- 
bert, and Oswald." 

" In the name of God ! " said Gurth, " how came they 
prisoners ? — and to whom ? " 

" Our master was too ready to fight," said the Jester ; 
" and Athelstane was not ready enough, and no other per- 
son was ready at all. And they are prisoners to green 
cassocks and black visors. And they lie all tumbled about 
on the green, like the crab-apples that you shake down to 



IVANHOE, 285 

your swine. And I would laugh at it," said the honest 
Jester,*' if I could for weeping/' And he shed tears of 
unfeigned sorrow. 

Gurth's countenance kindled — " Wamba," he said, 
^ thou hast a weapon, and thy heart was ever stronger 
than thy brain, — we are only two — but a sudden attack 
from men of resolution will do much — ^follow me ! " 

" Whither ? — and for what purpose ? " said the Jester. 

" To rescue Cedric." 

" But you have renounced his service but now," said 
Wamba. 

" That," said Gurth, " was but while he was fortunate 
— follow me." 

As the Jester was about to obey, a third person sud- 
denly made his appearance, and commanded them both 
to halt. From his dress and arms, Wamba would have 
conjectured him to be one of those outlaws who had just 
assailed his master ; but, besides that he wore no mask, 
the glittering baldric across his shoulder, with the rich 
bugle-horn which it supported, as well as the calm and 
commanding expression of his voice and manner, made 
him, notwithstanding the twilight, recognize Locksley 
the yeoman, who had bee^i victorious, under such disad- 
vantageous circumstances, in the contest for the prize of 
archery. 

" What is the meaning of all this ? " said he, " or who 
is it that rifle, and ransom, and make prisoners in these 
forests ? " 

" You may look at their cassocks close by," said 
Wamba, " and see whether they be thy children's coats 
or no— for they are as Hke thine own, as one green pea- 
cod is to another." 

"I will learn that presently," answered Locksley; 



286 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

" and I charge ye, on peril of your lives, not to stir from 
the place where ye stand, until I have returned. Obey 
me, and it shall be the better for you and your masters, 
— Yet stay, I must render myself as like these men as 
possible." 

So saying, he unbuckled his baldric with the bugle, 
took a feather from his cap, and gave them to Wamba ; 
then drew a vizard from his pouch, and, repeating his 
charges to them to stand fast, went to execute his pur- 
poses of reconnoitring. 

" Shall we stand fast, Gurth ? " said "Wamba ; " or shall 
we e'en give him leg-bail ? In my foolish mind, he had 
all the equipage of a thief too much in readiness to be 
himself a true man." 

" Let him be the devil," said Gurth, " an he will. We 
can be no worse of waiting his return. If he belong to 
that party, he must already have given them the alarm, 
and it will avail nothing either to fight or to fly. Besides, 
I have late experience, that arrant thieves are not the 
worst men in the world to have to deal with." 

The yeoman returned in the course of a few minutes. 

" Friend Gurth," he said, " I have mingled among yon 
men, and have learnt to whom they belong, and whither 
they are bound. There is, I think, no chance that they 
will proceed to any actual violence against their prisoners. 
For three men to attempt them at this moment were Kttle 
else than madness ; for they are good men of war, and 
have, as such, placed sentinels to give the alarm when 
any one approaches. But I trust soon to gather such a 
force as may act in defiance of all their precautions ; 
you are both servants, and, as I think, faithful servants, 
of Cedric the Saxon, the friend of the rights of English- 
men. He shall not want Enghsh hands to help him in 



IVANHOE. 287 

this extremity. Come, then, with me, until I gather more 
aid/' 

So saying, he walked through the wood at a great 
pace, followed by the jester and the swineherd. It was 
not consistent with Wamba's humour to travel long in 
silence. 

" I think," said he, looking at the baldric and buglo 
which he still carried, " that I saw the arrow shot which 
won this gay prize, and that not so long since as Christ- 
mas." 

" And I," said Gurth, " could take it on my halidome, 
that I have heard the voice of the good yeoman who won 
it, by night as well as by day, and that the moon is not 
three days older since I did so." 

" Mine honest friends," replied the yeoman, " who or 
what I am, is little to the present purpose ; should I free 
your master, you will have reason to think me the best 
friend you have ever had in your lives. And whether I 
am known by one name or another — or whether I can 
draw a bow as well or better than a cow-keeper, or 
whether it is my pleasure to walk in sunshine or by moon- 
light, are matters which, as they do not concern you, so 
neither need ye busy yourselves respecting them." 

" Our heads are in the lion's mouth," said Wamba, in 
a whisper to Gurth, " get them out how we can." 

" Hush — ^be silent," said Gurth. " Offend him not by 
thy folly, and I trust sincerely that all will go well. 



288 WAVEELET NOTELS. 



CHAPTER XX. 

When autumn nights were long and drear, 

And forest walks were dark and dim, 
How sweetly on the pilgrim's ear 

Was wont to steal the hermit's hymn! 

Devotion borrows Music's tone, 

And Music took Devotion's wing ; 
And, like the bird that hails the sun, 

They soar to heaven, and soaring sing. 

The Hermit of St. Clement's Well. 

It was after three hours' good walking that the ser** 
vants of Cedric, with their mysterious guide, arrived at 
a small opening in the forest, in the centre of which 
grew an oak-tree of enormous magnitude, throwing its 
twisted branches in every direction. Beneath this tree 
four or five yeomen lay stretched on the ground, while 
another, as sentinel, walked to and fro in the moonlight 
shade. 

Upon hearing the sound of feet approaching, the watch 
instantly gave the alarm, and the sleepers as suddenly 
started up and bent their bows. Six arrows placed on 
the string were pointed towards the quarter from which 
the travellers approached, when their guide, being recog- 
nised, was welcomed with every token of respect and 
attachment, and all signs and fears of a rough reception 
at once subsided. 

" Where is the Miller ? " was his first question- 



IVANHOE. 289 

** On the road towards Rotherham." 

" With how many ? " demanded the leader, for such he 
seemed to be. 

" With six men, and good hope of booty, if it please 
St. Nicholas." 

" Devoutly spoken," said Locksley ; " and where is 
AUan-a-Dale?" 

" Walked up towards the Watling-street, to watch for 
the Prior of Jorvaulx." 

" That is well thought on also," replied the captain ; — 
^ and where is the Friar ? " 

" In his ceU." 

" Thither will I go," said Locksley. " Disperse and 
seek your companions. Collect what force you can, for 
there's game afoot that must be hunted hard, and will 
turn to bay. Meet me here by daybreak. — ^And stay," 
he added, " I have forgotten what is most necessary of 
the whole — Two of you take the road quickly towards 
Torquilstone, the Castle of Front-de-Boeuf. A set of 
gallants, who have been masquerading in such guise as 
our own, are carrying a band of prisoners thither — Watch 
them closely, for, even if they reach the castle before we 
collect our force, our honour is concerned to punish 
them, and we will find means to do so. Keep a close 
watch on them, therefore ; and despatch one of your 
comrades, the lightest of foot, to bring the news of the 
yeomen thereabout." 

They promised implicit obedience, and departed with 
alacrity on their different errands. In the meanwhile, 
their leader and his two companions, who now looked 
upon him with great respect, as well as some fear, 
pursued their way to the chapel of Copmanhurst. 

When they had reached the little moonlight glade, 

VOL. XVII. 19 



290 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

having in front the reverend, though ruinous chapel, and 
the rude hermitage, so well suited to ascetic devotion, 
Wamba whispered to Gurth, " If this be the habitation 
of a thief, it makes good the old proverb. The nearer the 
church the farther from God. — And, by my cockscomb," 
he added, " I think it be even so — Hearken but to the 
black sanctus which they are singing in the hermitage I " 
In fact the anchorite and his guest were performing, at 
the full extent of their very powerful lungs, an old 
drinking-song, of which this was the burden : 

** Come, trowl the brown bowl to me, 

Bully boy, bully boy, 
Come, trowl the brown bowl to me: 

Ho ! jolly Jenkin, I spy a knave in drinking. 
Come, trowl the brown bowl to me ." 

" Now, that is not ill sung," said Wamba, who had 
thrown in a few of his own flourishes to help out the 
chorus. " But who, in the saint's name, ever expected to 
have heard such a jolly chant come from out a hermit's 
cell at midnight ? " 

" Marry, that should I," said Gurth, " for the jolly 
Clerk of Copmanhurst is a known man, and kills half the 
deer that are stolen in this walk. Men say that the 
keeper has complained to his official, and that he will be 
stripped of his cowl and cope altogether, if he keep not 
better order." 

While they were thus speaking, Locksley's loud and 
repeated knocks had at length disturbed the anchorite 
and his guest. " By my beads," said the hermit, stopping 
short in a grand flourish, " here come more benighted 
guests. I would not for my cowl that they found us in 
this goodly exercise. All men have their enemies, good 
Sir Sluggard ; and there be those malignant enough to con- 



IVANHOE. 291 

strue the hospitable refreshment which I have been offer- 
ing to you, a weary traveller, for the matter of three short 
hours, into sheer drunkenness and debauchery, vices alike 
alien to my profession and my disposition." 

" Base calumniators I " replied the knight ; " I would 
I had the chastising of them. Nevertheless, Holy Clerk, 
it is true that all have their enemies ; and there be those 
in this very land whom I would rather speak to through 
the bars of my helmet than barefaced." 

" Get thine iron pot on thy head, then, friend Slug- 
gard, as quickly as thy nature will permit," said the 
hermit, " while I remove these pewter flagons, whose late 
contents run strangely in mine own pate ; and to drown 
the clatter — for, in faith, I feel somewhat unsteady — - 
strike into the tune which thou hearest me sing ; it is no 
matter for the words — I scarce know them myself." 

So saying, he struck up a thundering De profundis 
clamavij under cover of which he removed the apparatus 
of their banquet; while the knight, laughing heartily, 
and arming himself all the while, assisted his host with 
his voice from time to time as his mirth permitted. 

" What devil's matins are you after at this hour ? " said 
a voice from without. 

" Heaven forgive you. Sir Traveller ! " said the hermit, 
whose own noise, and perhaps his nocturnal potations, 
prevented from recognising accents which were tolerably 
familiar to him — " Wend on your way, in the name of 
God and Saint Dunstan, and disturb not the devotions of 
me and my holy brother." 

" Mad priest," answered the voice from without, " open 
to Locksley ! " 

'' All's safe — all's right," said the hermit to his com 
panion. 



292 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

" But who is he ? " said the Black Knight ; " it im* 
ports me much to know." 

" Who is he ? " answered the hermit ; " I tell thee he 
is a friend." 

" But what friend ? " answered the knight ; " for he 
may be friend to thee and none of mine." 

" What friend ? " replied the hermit ; " that, now, is 
one of the questions that is more easily asked than an- 
swered. What friend ? — why, he is, now that I bethink 
me a little, the very same honest keeper I told thee of a 
while since." 

" Ay, as honest a keeper as thou art a pious hermit," 
replied the knight, " I doubt it not. But undo the door 
to him before he beat it from its hinges." 

The dogs, in the meantime, which had made a dreadful 
baying at the commencement of the disturbance, seemed 
now to recognise the voice of him who stood without ; 
for, totally changing their manner, they scratched and 
whined at the door, as if interceding for his admission. 
The hermit speedily unbolted his portal, and admitted 
Locksley, with his two companions. 

" Why, hermit," was the yeoman's first question as soon 
as he beheld the knight, " what boon companion hast 
thou here ? " 

" A brother of our order," replied the friar, shaking his 
head ; " we have been at our orisons all night." 

" He is a monk of the church militant, I think," an- 
swered Locksley ; " and there be more of them abroad. 
I tell thee, friar, thou must lay down the rosary and take 
up the quarterstaff; we shall need every one of our 
merry men, whether clerk or layman. — But," he added, 
taking him a step aside, " art thou mad ? to give admit- 
tance to a knight thou dost not know ? Hast thou forgot 
our articles ? " 



lYANHOE. 293 

" Not know him ! " replied the friar, boldly ; " I know 
him as well as the beggar knows his dish." 

" And what is his name, then ? " demanded Locksley. 

" His name," said the hermit — " his name is Sir An- 
thony of Scrablestone — as if I would drink with a man, 
and did not know his name ! " 

" Thou hast been drinking more than enough, friar/* 
said the woodsman, "and, I fear, prating more than 
enough, too." 

" Good yeoman," said the knight, coming forward, " be 
not wroth with my merry host He did but alBTord me 
the hospitality which I would have compelled from him 
if he had refused it." 

" Thou compel ! " said the friar ; " wait but till I have 
changed this gray gown for a green cassock, and if I 
make not a quarterstaff ring twelve upon thy pate, I am 
neither true clerk nor good woodsman." 

While he spoke thus, he stript off his gown, and ap- 
peared in a close black buckram doublet and drawers, 
over which he speedily did on a cassock of green, and 
hose of the same colour. " I pray thee truss my points," 
said he to Wamba, " and thou shalt have a cup of sack 
for thy labour." 

" Gramercy for thy sack," said Wamba ; " but think^st 
thou it is lawful for me to aid you to transmew thyself 
from a holy hermit into a sinful forester ? " 

" Never fear," said the hermit ; " I will but confess the 
Bins of my green cloak to my greyfriar's frock, and all 
shall be well again." 

"Amen!" answered the Jester; "a broadcloth peni- 
tent should have a sackcloth confessor, and your frock 
may absolve my motley doublet into the bargain." 

So saying, he accommodated the friar with his assist* 



294 WAYERLEY NOVELS. 

ance in tying the endless number of points, as the laces 
which attached the hose to the doublet were then termed. 

While they were thus employed, Locksley led the 
knight a little apart, and addressed him thus : — " Deny it 
not. Sir Knight — you are he who decided the victory to 
the advantage of the English against the strangers on the 
second day of the tournament at Ashby." 

" And what follows, if you guess truly, good yeoman ? " 
replied the knight. 

" I should in that case hold you," replied the yeoman, 
" a friend to the weaker party." 

" Such is the duty of a true knight at least." replied 
the Black Champion ; " and I would not willingly that 
there were reason to think otherwise of me." 

" But for my purpose," said the yeoman, " thou shouldst 
be as well a good Englishman as a good knight ; for that 
which I have to speak of concerns, indeed, the duty of 
every honest man, but is more especially that of a true- 
born native of England." 

"You can speak to no one," replied the knight, "to 
whom England, and the hfe of every Englishman, can be 
dearer than to me." 

"I would willingly believe so," said the woodsman, 
"for never had this country such need to be supported 
by those who love her. Hear me, and I will tell thee of 
an enterprise, in which, if thou be'st really that which 
thou seemest, thou mayest take an honourable part. A 
band of villains, in the disguise of better men than them- 
selves, have made themselves master of the person of a 
noble Englishman called Cedric the Saxon, together with 
his ward, and his friend, Athelstane of Coningsburgh, and 
have transported them to a castle in this forest, called 
Torquilstone. I ask of thee, as a good knight and a 
good Englishman, wilt thou aid in their rescue ? " 



a 



lYANHOE. 295 

" I am bound by my vow to do so," replied the knight ; 

but I would willingly know who you are, who request 
my assistance in their behalf? " 

" I am," said the forester, " a nameless man ; but I am 
the friend of my country, and of my country's friends — 
With this account of me you must for the present remain 
satisfied, the more especially since you yourself desire to 
continue unknown. Believe, however, that my word, 
when pledged, is as inviolate as if I wore golden spurs." 

*' I wilHngly believe it," said the knight ; " I have been 
accustomed to study men's countenances, and I can read 
in thine honesty and resolution. I will, therefore, ask 
thee no farther questions, but aid thee in setting at free- 
dom these oppressed captives ; which done, I trust we 
shall part better acquainted, and well satisfied with each 
other." 

" So," said Wamba to Gurth, — for the friar being now 
fully equipped, the Jester, having approached to the 
other side of the hut, had heard the conclusion of the 
conversation, — " So we have got a new ally ? — I trust the 
valour of the knight will be truer metal than the religion 
of the hermit, or the honesty of the yeoman; for this 
Locksley looks like a bom deer-stealer, and the priest 
like a lusty hypocrite." 

" Hold thy peace, Wamba," said Gurth ; " it may all 
be as thou dost guess ; but were the horned devil to rise 
and proffer me his assistance to set at liberty Cedric and 
the Lady Rowena, I fear I should hardly have religion 
enough to refuse the foul fiend's offer, and bid him get 
behind me." 

The friar was now completely accoutred as a yeoman, 
with sword and buckler, bow and quiver, and a strong 
partisan over his shoulder. He left his cell at the head 



296 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

of the party, and, having carefully locked the door, depos- 
ited the key under the threshold. 

"Art thou in condition to do good service, friar?" said 
Looksley ; " or does the brown bowl still run in thy 
head?" 

" Not more than a draught of Saint Dunstan's fountain 
will allay," answered the priest ; " something there is of 
a whizzing in my brain, and of instability in my legs, but 
you shall presently see both pass away." 

So saying, he stepped to the stone basin, in which the 
waters of the fountain as they fell, formed bubbles which 
danced in the white moonlight, and took so long a draught 
as if he had meant to exhaust the spring. 

" When didst thou drink as deep a draught of water 
before, Holy Clerk of Copmanhurst ? " said the Black 
Knight. 

"Kever since my wine-butt leaked, and let out its 
liquor by an illegal vent," replied the friar, " and so left 
me nothing to drink but my patron's bounty here." 

Then plunging his hands and head into the fountain, 
be washed from them all marks of the midnight revel. 

Thus refreshed and sobered, the jolly priest twirled 
his heavy partisan round his head with three fingers, as 
if he had been balancing a reed, exclaiming, at the same 
time, " Where be those false ravishers, who carry off 
wenches against their will ? May the foul fiend fly off 
with me, if I am not man enough for a dozen of them ! " 

" Swearest thou, Holy Clerk ? " said the Black Knight. 

" Clerk me no Clerks," replied the transformed priest ; 
" by Saint George and the Dragon, I am no longer a 
shaveling than while my frock is on my back — When I 
am cased in my green cassock, I will drink, swear, and 
woo a lass, with any blithe forester in the West Riding." 



IVANHOE. 297 

" Come on, Jack Priest," said Locksley, " and be 
silent ; thou art as noisy as a whole convent on a holy 
eve, when the Father Abbot has gone to bed. — Come on 
you, too, my masters ; tarry not to talk of it — I say, come 
on, we must collect all our forces, and few enough we 
shall have, if we are to storm the Castle of Reginald 
Front-de-Boeuf." 

" What ! is it Front-de-Boeuf," said the Black Knight, 
" who has stopt on the king's highway the king's liege 
subjects ? — Is he turned thief and oppressor ? " 

" Oppressor he ever was," said Locksley. 

" And for thief," said the priest, " I doubt if ever he 
were even half so honest a man as many a thief of my 
acquaintance." 

" Move on, priest, and be silent," said the yeoman ; " it 
were better you led the way to the place of rendezvous, 
than say what should be left unsaid, both in decency and 
prudence." 



xxxx 
xxxx 

X.XX.X' 
XX.XX 



298 ■WAVEBLET NOVELS. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

Alas, how many hours and years have past, 
Since human forms have round this table sate. 
Or lamp, or taper, on its surface gleam'd! 
Methinks, I hear the sound of time long pass'd 
Still murmuring o'er us, in the lofty void 
Of these dark arches, like the Ung'ring voices 
Of those who long within their graves have slept. 

Orra, a Traqedt. 

While these measures were taking in behalf of Cedric 
and his companions, the armed men bj whom the latter 
had been seized, hurried their captives along towards the 
place of security, where they intended to imprison them. 
But darkness came on fast, and the paths of the wood 
seemed but imperfectly known to the marauders. They 
were compelled to make several long halts, and once or 
twice to return on their road to resume the direction 
which they wished to pursue. The summer mom had 
dawned upon them ere they could travel in full assurance 
that they held the right path. But confidence returned 
with light, and the cavalcade now moved rapidly forward. 
Meanwhile, the following dialogue took place between 
the two leaders of the banditti : — 

" It is time thou shouldst leave us. Sir Maurice," said 
the Templar to De Bracy, " in order to prepare the 
second part of thy mystery. Thou art next, thou know- 
est, to act the Knight DeHverer." 

" I have thought better of it," said De Bracy ; " I will 



IVANHOE. 299 

not leave thee till the prize is fairly deposited in Front- 
de-Boeuf s castle. There will I appear before the Lady 
Rowena in mine own shape, and trust that she will set 
down to the vehemence of my passion the violence of 
which I have been guilty.'* 

"And what has made thee change thy plan, De 
Bracy ? " replied the Knight Templar. 

" That concerns thee nothing," answered his com- 
panion. 

" I would hope, however. Sir Knight," said the Tem- 
plar, "that this alteration of measures arises from no 
suspicion of my honourable meaning, such as Fitzurse 
endeavoured to instil into thee ? " 

" My thoughts are my own," answered De Bracy ; 
" the fiend laughs, they say, when one thief robs another ; 
and we know, that were he to spit fire and brimstone 
instead, it would never prevent a Templar from following 
his bent." 

" Or the leader of a Free Company," answered the 
Templar, "from dreading, at the hands of a comrade 
and friend, the injustice he does to all mankind." 

" This is unprofitable and perilous recrimination," 
answered De Bracy ; " suffice it to say, I know the 
morals of the Temple-Order, and I will not give thee 
the power of cheating me out of the fair prey for which 
I have run such risks." 

" Psha ! " replied the Templar, " what hast thou to 
fear ? — Thou knowest the vows of our order." 

" Eight well," said De Bracy, " and also how they are 
kept. Come, Sir Templar, the laws of gallantry have a 
liberal interpretation in Palestine, and this is a case in 
which I will trust nothing to your conscience." 

" Hear the truth, then," said the Templar ; " I care 



800 WAYERLEY NOVELS. 

not for your blue-eyed beauty. There is in that train 
one who will make me a better mate." 

" What ! wouldst thou stoop to the waiting damsel ? ** 
said De Bracy. 

" No, Sir Knight," said the Templar, haughtily. " To 
the waiting-woman will I not stoop. I have a prize 
among the captives as lovely as thine own." 

" By the mass, thou meanest the fair Jewess ! " said 
De Bracy. 

"And if I do," said Bois-Guilbert, "who shall gainsay 
me?" 

" No one that I know," said De Bracy, " unless it be 
your vow of celibacy, or a check of conscience for an 
intrigue with a Jewess." 

" For my vow/' said the Templar, " our Grand Master 
hath granted me a dispensation. And for my conscience, 
a man that has slain three hundred Saracens, need not 
reckon up every little failing, like a village girl at her 
first confession upon Good Friday eve." 

" Thou knowest best thine own privileges," said De 
Bracy. " Yet, I would have sworn thy thoughts had 
been more on the old usurer's money-bags, than on the 
black eyes of the daughter." 

" I can admire both," answered the Templar ; " besides, 
the old Jew is but half-prize. I must share his spoils 
with Front-de-Boeuf, who will not lend us the use of his 
castle for nothing. I must have something that I can 
t^rm exclusively my own by this foray of ours, and I 
have fixed on the lovely Jewess as my peculiar prize. 
But, now thou knowest my drift, thou wilt resume thine 
own original plan, wilt thou not ? — Thou hast nothing, 
thou seest, to fear from my interference." 

" No," replied De Bracy, " I will remain beside my 



IVANHOE. 301 

prize. What thou sayest is passing true ; but I like not 
the privileges acquired bj the dispensation of the Grand 
IVIaster, and the merit acquired by the slaughter of three 
hundred Saracens. You have too good a right to a free 
pardon, to render you very scrupulous about peccadil- 
loes." 

While this dialogue was proceeding, Cedric was endeav- 
ouring to wring out of those who guarded him an avowal 
of their character and purpose. " You should be Eng- 
lishmen," said he ; " and yet, sacred Heaven ! you prey 
upon your countrymen as if you were very Normans. 
You should be my neighbours, and, if so, my friends 
for which of my Enghsh neighbours have reason to be 
otherwise ? I tell ye, yeomen, that even those among ye 
who have been branded with outlawry have had from me 
protection ; for I have pitied their miseries, and curst the 
oppression of their tyrannic nobles. What, then, would 
you have of me ? or in what can this violence serve ye ? 
— Ye are worse than brute beasts in your actions, and 
will you imitate them in their very dumbness ? " 

It was in vain that Cedric expostulated with his guards, 
who had too many good reasons for their silence to be 
induced to break it either by his wrath or his expostula- 
tions. They continued to hurry him along, travelling at 
a very rapid rate, until, at the end of an avenue of huge 
trees, arose Torquilstone, now the hoary and ancient 
castle of Reginald Front-de-Boeuf. It was a fortress of 
no great size, consisting of a donjon, or large and high 
square tower, surrounded by buildings of inferior height, 
which were encircled by an inner court-yard. Ai'ound 
the exterior wall was a deep moat, supplied with water 
• from a neighbouring rivulet. Front-de-Boeuf, whose 
character placed him often at feud with his enemies, had 



302 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

made considerable additions to the strength of his castle, 
by building towers upon the outward wall, so as to flank 
it at every angle. The access, as usual in castles of the 
period, lay through an arched barbican, or outwork, which 
was terminated and defended by a small turret at each 
corner. 

Cedric no sooner saw the turrets of Front-de-Boeuf 's 
castle raise their gray and moss-grown battlements, glim- 
mering in the morning sun, above the woods by which 
they were surrounded, than he instantly augured more 
truly concerning the cause of his misfortune. 

^* I did injustice," he said, " to the thieves and outlaws 
of these woods, when I supposed such banditti to belong 
to their bands; I might as justly have confounded the 
foxes of these brakes with the ravening wolves of France. 
Tell me, dogs — is it my life or my wealth that your 
master aims at ? Is it too much that two Saxons, myself 
and the noble Athelstane, should hold land in the country 
which was once the patrimony of our race? — Put us, 
then, to death, and complete your tyranny by taking our 
lives, as you began with our liberties. If the Saxon 
Cedric cannot rescue England, he is willing to die for 
her. Tell your tyrannical master, I do only beseech him 
to dismiss the Lady Eowena in honour and safety. She 
is a woman, and he need not dread her ; and with us will 
die all who dare fight in her cause." 

The attendants remained as mute to this address as to 
the former, and they now stood before the gate of the 
castle. De Bracy winded his horn three times, and the 
archers and cross-bow men, who had manned the wall 
upon seeing their approach, hastened to lower the draw- 
bridge and admit them. The prisoners were compelled- 
by their guards to alight, and were conducted to an 



rVANHOE. 803 

apartment where a hasty repast was offered them, of 
which none but Athelstane felt any inclination to partake. 
Neither had the descendant of the Confessor jnuch time 
to do justice to the good cheer placed before them, for 
their guards gave him and Cedric to understand that they 
were to be imprisoned in a chamber apart from Eowena. 
Resistance was vain ; and they were compelled to follow 
to a large room, which, rising on clumsy Saxon pillars, 
resembled those refectories and chapter-houses which 
may be still seen in the most ancient parts of our most 
ancient monasteries. 

The Lady Rowena was next separated from her train, 
and conducted with courtesy, indeed, but still without con- 
sulting her inclination, to a distant apartment. The same 
alarming distinction was conferred on Rebecca, in spite 
of her father's entreaties, who offered even money in this 
extremity of distress, that she might be permitted to abide 
with him. " Base unbeliever," answered one of his 
guards, " when thou hast seen thy lair, thou wilt not wish 
thy daughter to partake it." And, without farther dis- 
cussion, the old Jew was forcibly dragged off in a different 
direction from the other prisoners. The domestics, after 
being carefully searched and disarmed, were confined in 
another part of the castle ; and Rowena was refused even 
the comfort she might have derived from the attendance 
of her handmaiden Elgitha. 

The apartment in which the Saxon chiefs were con- 
fined, — for to them we turn our first attention, — although 
at present used as a sort of guard-room, had formerly 
been the great hall of the castle. It was now abandoned 
to meaner purposes, because the present lord, among other 
additions to the convenience, security, and beauty of his 
baronial residence, had erected a new and noble hall, 



304 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

whose vaulted roof was supported by lighter and more 
elegant pillars, and fitted up with that higher degree of 
ornament^ which the Normans had already introduced 
into architecture. 

Cedric paced the apartment, filled with indignant reflec- 
tions on the past and on the present, while the apathy of 
his companion served, instead of patience and philosophy, 
to defend him against every thing save the inconvenience 
of the present moment ; and so little did he feel even this 
last, that he was only from time to time roused to a reply 
by Cedric's animated and impassioned appeal to him. 

" Yes," said Cedric, half speaking to himself, and half 
addressing himself to Athelstane, " it was in this very hall 
that my father feasted with Torquil Wolfganger, when he 
entertained the valiant and unfortunate Harold, then ad- 
vancing against the Norwegians, who had united them- 
selves to the rebel Tosti. It was in this hall that Harold 
returned the magnanimous answer to the ambassador of 
his rebel brother. Oft have I heard my father kindle as 
he told the tale. The envoy of Tosti was admitted, when 
this ample room could scarce contain the crowd of noble 
Saxon leaders, who were quaffing the blood-red wine 
around their monarch." 

"I hope," said Athelstane, somewhat moved by this 
part of his friend's discourse, " they will not forget to 
send us some wine and refections at noon — we had scarce 
a breathing-space allowed to break our fast, and I never 
have the benefit of my food when I eat immediately after 
dismounting from horseback, though the leeches recom- 
mend that practice." 

Cedric went on with his story without noticing this 
interjectional observation of his friend. 

" The envoy of Tosti," he said, " moved up the hall. 



lYANHOE. 305 

undismayed by the frowning countenances of all around 
him, until he made his obeisance before the throne of 
King Harold. 

" ' What terms/ he said, ' Lord King, hath thy brother 
Tosti to hope, if he should lay down his arms, and crave 
peace at thy hands ?' 

" ' A brother's love,' cried the generous Harold, ' and 
the fair earldom of Northumberland.' 

" ' But should Tosti accept these terms,' continued the 
envoy, ' what lands shall be assigned to his faithful ally, 
Hardrada, King of Norway ? ' 

" ' Seven feet of English ground,' answered Harold, 
fiercely, ' or, as Hardrada is said to be a giant, perhaps 
we may allow him twelve inches more.' 

" The hall rung with acclamations, and cup and horn 
was filled to the Norwegian, who should be speedily in 
possession of his English territory." 

"I could have pledged him with all my soul," said 
Athelstane, " for my tongue cleaves to my palate." 

" The baffled envoy," continued Cedric, pursuing with 
animation his tale, though it interested not the listener, 
" retreated, to carry Tosti and his ally the ominous answer 
of his injured brother. It was then that the distant 
towers of York, and the bloody streams of the Derwent,* 

* A great topographical blunder occurred here in former editions. 
The bloody battle alluded to in the text, fought and won by King 
Harold, over his brother, the rebellious Tosti, and an auxiliary force 
of Danes or Norsemen, was said, in the text, and a corresponding note, 
to have taken place at Stamford, in Leicestershire, and upon the river 
Welland. This is a mistake, into which the author has been led by 
trusting to his memory, and so confounding two places of the same 
name. The Stamford, Strangford, or Staneford, at which the battle 
really was fought, is a ford upon the river Derwent, at the distance 
of about seven miles from York, and situated in that large and opu- 
lent county. A long wooden bridge over the Derwent, the site of 

VOL. XVII. 20 



306 WAVEKLEY NOVELS. 

beheld that direful conflict, in which, after displaying the 
most undaunted valour, the King of Norway and Tosti 
both fell, with ten thousand of their bravest followers. 
Who would have thought that upon the proud day when 
this battle was won, the very gale which waved the Saxon 
banners in triumph was filling the Norman sails, and im- 
pelhng them to the fatal shores of Sussex ? — Who would 
have thought that Harold, within a few brief days, would 
himself possess no more of his kingdom than the share 
which he allotted in his wrath to the Norwegian invader ? 
— Who would have thought that you, noble Athelstane — 
that you, descended of Harold's blood, and that I, whose 
father was not the worst defender of the Saxon crown, 
should be prisoners to a vile Norman, in the very hall in 
which our ancestors held such high festival ? " 

" It is sad enough," replied Athelstane ; " but I trust 
they will hold us to a moderate ransom — At any rate it 
cannot be their purpose to starve us outright ; and yet, 
although it is high noon, I see no preparations for serving 

which, with one remaining buttress, is still shown to the curious trav- 
eller, was furiously contested. One Norwegian long defended it by his 
single arm, and was at length pierced with a spear thrust through the 
planks of the bridge from a boat beneath. 

The neighbourhood of Stamford, on the Derwent, contains some 
memorials of the battle. Horse-shoes, swords, and the heads of hal- 
berds, or bills, are often found there; one place is called the " Danes' 
weU," another the " Battle flats." From a tradition that the weapon 
with which the Norwegian champion was slain, resembled a pear, or, 
as others say, that the trough or boat in which the soldier floated un- 
der the bridge to strike the blow, had such a shape, the country people 
usually begin a great market, which is held at Stamford, with an 
entertainment called the Pear-pie feast, which after aU may be a cor- 
ruption of the Spear-pie feast. For more particulars, Drake's History 
of York maybe referred to. The author's mistake was pointed out to 
him, in the most obliging manner, by Robert Belt, Esq., of Bossal 
House. The battle was fought in 1066. 



IVANHOE. 307 

dinner. Look up at the window, noble Cedric, and judge 
bj the sunbeams if it is not on the verge of noon." 

" It may be so," answered Cedric ; " but I cannot look 
on that stained lattice without its awakening other reflec- 
tions than those which concern the passing moment, or its 
privations. When that window was wrought, my noble 
friend, our hardy fathers knew not the art of making 
glass, or of staining it — The pride of Wolfganger's father 
brought an artist from Normandy to adorn his hall with 
this new species of emblazonment, that break^he golden 
light of God's blessed day into so many fantastic hues. 
The foreigner came here poor, beggarly, cringing, and 
subservient, ready to doff his cap to the meanest native 
of the household. He returned, pampered and proud, to 
tell his rapacious countrymen of the wealth and the sim- 
plicity of the Saxon nobles — a folly, oh, Athelstane, fore- 
boded of old, as well as foreseen, by those descendants of 
Hengist and his hardy tribes, who retained the simplicity 
of their manners. We made these strangers our bosom 
friends, our confidential servants ; we borrowed their 
artists and their arts, and despised the honest simplicity 
and hardihood with which our brave ancestors supported 
themselves, and we became enervated by Norman arts 
long ere we fell under Norman arms. Far better was 
our homely diet, eaten in peace and liberty, than the 
luxurious dainties, the love of which hath delivered us as 
bondsmen to the foreign conqueror ! " 

" I should," replied Athelstane, " hold very humble diet 
a luxury at present ; and it astonishes me, noble Cedric, 
that you can bear so truly in mind the memory of past 
deeds, when it appeareth you forget the very hour of 
dinner." 

" It is time lost," muttered Cedric, apart and impa- 



808 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

tientlj, " to speak to him of aught else but that which 
concerns his appetite ! The soul of Hardicanute hath 
taken possession of him, and he hath no pleasure save to 
fill, to swill, and to call for more. — Alas ! " said he, look- 
ing at Athelstane with compassion, " that so dull a spirit 
should be lodged in so goodly a form ! Alas ! that such 
an enterprise as the regeneration of England should tursi 
on a hinge so imperfect ! Wedded to Rowena, indeed, 
her noble and more generous soul may yet awake the 
better nature which is torpid within him. Yet how should 
this be, while Rowena, Athelstane, and I myself, remain 
the prisoners of this brutal marauder, and have been 
made so perhaps from a sense of the dangers which our 
liberty might bring to the usurped power of his nation ? " 

While the Saxon was plunged in these painful reflec- 
tions, the door of their prison opened, and gave entrance 
to a sewer, holding his white rod of office. This impor- 
tant person advanced into the chamber with a grave pace, 
followed by four attendants, bearing in a table covered 
with dishes, the sight and smell of which seemed to be an 
instant compensation to Athelstane for all the inconven- 
ience he had undergone. The persons who attended on 
the feast were masked and cloaked. 

" What mummery is this ? " said Cedric ; " think you 
that we are ignorant whose prisoners we are, when 
we are in the castle of your master ? Tell him," he 
continued, willing to use this opportunity to open a nego- 
tiation for his freedom — " Tell your master, Reginald 
Front-de-Boeuf, that we know no reason he can have for 
withholding our liberty, excepting his unlawful desire to 
enrich himself at our expense. Tell him that we yield 
to his rapacity, as in similar circumstances we should do 
to that of a literal robber. Let him name the ransom at 



IVANHOE. 309 

which he rates our liberty, and it shall be paid, providing 
the exaction is suited to our means." 

The sewer made no answer, but bowed his head. 

" And tell Sir Reginald Front-de-Boeuf," said Athel- 
stane, ^'that I send him my mortal defiance, and challenge 
liim to combat with me on foot or horseback, at any 
Bccure place, within eight days after our liberation ; which, 
if he be a true knight, he will not, under these circum- 
stances, venture to refuse or to delay." 

" I shall deliver to the knight your defiance," answered 
the sewer ; " meanwhile I leave you to your food." 

The challenge of Athelstane was delivered with no 
good grace ; for a large .mouthful, which required the 
exercise of both jaws at once, added to a natural hesita- 
tion, considerably damped the effect of the bold defiance 
it contained. Still, however, his speech was hailed by 
Cedric as an incontestable token of reviving spirit in his 
companion, whose previous indifference had begun, not- 
withstanding his respect for Athelstane's descent, to wear 
out his patience. But he now cordially shook hands with 
him in token of his approbation, and was somewhat 
grieved when Athelstane observed, " that he would fight 
a dozen such men as Front-de-Boeuf, if, by so doing, he 
could hasten his departure from a dungeon where they 
put so much garlic into their pottage." Notwithstanding 
this intimation of a relapse into the apathy of sensuality, 
Cedric placed himself opposite to Athelstane, and soon 
shewed, that if the distresses of his country could banish 
the recollection of food while the table was uncovered, 
yet no sooner were the victuals put there, than he proved 
that the appetite of his Saxon ancestors had descended 
to him along with their other qualities. 

The captives had not long enjoyed their refreshment, 



310 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

however, ere their attention was disturbed even from this 
most serious occupation by the blast of a horn winded 
before the gate. It was repeated three times, with as 
much violence as if it had been blown before an en- 
chanted castle by the destined knight, at whose summons 
halls and towers, barbican and battlement, were to roll 
off like a morning vapour. The Saxons started from the 
table and hastened to the window. But their curiosity 
was disappointed ; for these outlets only looked upon the 
court of the castle, and the sound came from beyond its 
precincts. The summons, however, seemed of impor- 
tance, for a considerable degree of bustle instantly took 
place in the castle. 







rVANHOE. 311 



CHAPTER XXn. 

My daughter — my ducats — my daughter! 

my christian ducats ! 

Justice — the Law — ^my ducats, and my daughter! 

Merchant of Venice. 

Leaving the Saxon chiefs to return to their banquet 
as soon as their ungratified curiosity should permit them 
to attend to the calls of their half-satiated appetite, we 
have to look in upon the yet more severe imprisonment 
of Isaac of York. The poor Jew had been hastily 
thrown into a dungeon-vault of the castle, the floor of 
which was deep beneath the level of the ground, and 
very damp, being lower than even the moat itself. The 
only light was received through one or two loop-holes far 
above the reach of the captive's hand. These apertures 
admitted, even at mid-day, only a dim and uncertain light, 
which was changed for utter darkness long before the 
rest ol' tlie castle had lost the blessing of day. Chains 
and shackles, which had been the portion of former cap- 
tives, from whom active exertions to escape had been 
apprehended, hung rusted and empty on the walls of the 
prison, and in the rings of one of those sets of fetters 
there remained two mouldering bones, which seemed to 
have been once those of the human leg, as if the prisoner 
had been left, not only to perish there, but to be consumed 
to a skeleton. 



312 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

At one end of this ghastly apartment was a large fire- 
grate, over the top of which were stretched some trans- 
verse iron bars, half devoured with rust. 

The whole appearance of the dungeon might have 
appalled a stouter heart than that of Isaac, who, never- 
theless, was more composed under the imminent pressure 
of danger, than he had seemed to be while affected by 
terrors of which the cause was as yet remote and con- 
tingent. The lovers of the chase say that the hare feels 
more agony during the pursuit of the greyhounds than 
when she is struggling in their fangs.* And thus it is 
probable, that the Jews, by the very frequency of their 
fear on all occasions, had their minds in some degree 
prepared for every effort of tyranny which could be 
practised upon them ; so that no aggression, when it had 
taken place, could bring with it that surprise which is 
the most disabling quality of terror. Neither was it the 
first time that Isaac had been placed in circumstances so 
dangerous. He had, therefore, experience to guide him, 
as well as hope, that he might again, as formerly, be de- 
livered as a prey from the fowler. Above all, he had 
upon his side the unyielding obstinacy of his nation, and 
that unbending resolution, with which Israelites have been 
frequently known to submit to the uttermost evils which 
power and violence can inflict upon them, rather than 
gratify their oppressors by granting their demands. 

In this humour of passive resistance, and with his 
garment collected beneath him to ' keep his limbs from 
the wet pavement, Isaac sat in a corner of his dungeon, 
where his folded hands, his dishevelled hair and beard, 

* Nota Bene. — We by no means warrant the accuracy of this piece 
of natural history, which we give on the authority of the Wardour 
MS.— L. T. 



IVANHOE. 313 

his furred cloak, and high cap, seen by the wiry and 
broken hght, would have afforded a study for Rembrandt, 
had that celebrated painter existed at the period. The 
Jew remained without altering his position, for nearly 
three hours, at the expiry of which steps were heard on 
the dungeon stair. The bolts screamed as they were 
withdrawn — the hinges creaked as the wicket opened, 
and Reginald Front-de-Boeuf, followed by the two Saracen 
slaves of the Templar, entered the prison. 

Front-de-Boeuf, a tall and strong man, whose life had 
been spent in public war or in private feuds and broils, 
and who had hesitated at no means of extending his 
feudal power, had features corresponding to his character, 
and which strongly expressed the fiercer and more malig- 
nant passions of the mind. The scars with which his 
visage was seamed, would, on features of a different cast, 
have excited the sympathy and veneration due to the 
marks of honourable valour ; but, in the peculiar case of 
Front-de-Boeuf, they only added to the ferocity of his 
countenance, and to the dread which his presence in- 
spired. This formidable baron was clad in a leathern 
doublet, fitted close to his body, which was frayed and 
soiled with the stains of his armour. He had no weapon, 
excepting a poniard at his belt, which served to counter- 
balance the weight of the bunch of rusty keys that hung 
at his right side. 

The black slaves who attended Front-de-Boeuf were 
stripped of their gorgeous apparel, and attired in jerkins 
and trousers of coarse linen, their sleeves being tucked 
up above the elbow, like those of butchers when about to 
exercise their functions in the slaughter-house. Each 
had in his hand a small pannier ; and, when they entered 
the dungeon, they stopt at the door until Front-de-Boeuf 



814 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

himself carefully locked and double-locked it. Having 
taken this precaution, he advanced slowly up the apart- 
ment towards the Jew, upon whom he kept his eye fixed, 
as if he wished to paralyze him with his glance, as some 
animals are said to fascinate their prey. It seemed, 
indeed, as if the sullen and malignant eye of Front-de- 
Bjieuf possessed some portion of that supposed power over 
Lis unfortunate prisoner. The Jew^ sate with his mouth 
a-gape, and his eyes fixed on the sivage baron with such 
earnestness of terror, that his frame seemed literally to 
shrink together, and to diminish in size while encounter- 
ing the fierce Norman's fixed and baleful gaze. The 
unhappy Isaac was deprived not only of the power of 
rising to make the obeisance which his terror dictated, 
but he could not even doff his cap, or utter any word of 
suppHcation ; so strongly was he agitated by the convic- 
tion that tortures and death were impending over him. 

On the other hand, the stately form of the Norman 
appeared to dilate in magnitude, like that of the eagle, 
which ruffles up its plumage when about to pounce on its 
defenceless prey. He paused within three steps of the 
corner in which the unfortunate Jew had now, as it were, 
coiled himself up into the smallest possible space, and 
made a sign for one of the slaves to approach. The 
black satellite came forward accordingly, and, producing 
from his basket a large pair of scales and several weights, 
he laid them at the feet of Front-de-Boeuf, and again 
retired to the respectful distance, at which his companion 
had already taken his station. 

The motions of these men were slow and solemn, as if 
there impended over their souls some preconception of 
horror and of cruelty. Front-de-Boeuf himself opened 
the scene by thus addressing his ill-fated captive : — 



IVANHOE. 315 

"Most accursed dog of an accursed race," he said, 
awakening with his deep and sullen voice the sullen 
echoes of his dungeon vault, " seest thou these scales ? '* 

The unhappy Jew returned a feeble affirmative. 

" In these very scales shalt thou weigh me out," said 
the relentless Baron, "a thousand silver pounds, after 
the just measure and weight of the Tower of London." 

" Holy Abraham ! " returned the Jew, finding voice 
through the very extremity of his danger, " heard man 
ever such a demand ? — Who ever heard, even in a min- 
strel's tale, of such a sum as a thousand pounds of silver ? 
— What human sight was ever blessed with the vision 
of such a mass of treasure? — Not within the walls of 
York, ransack my house and that of all my tribe, wilt 
thou find the tithe of that huge sum of silver that thou 
speakest of" 

" I am reasonable," answered Front-de-Boeuf, " and if 
silver be scant, I refuse not gold. At the rate of a mark 
of gold for each six pounds of silver, thou shalt free thy 
unbelieving carcass from such punishment as thy heart 
has never even conceived." 

" Have mercy on me, noble knight !" exclaimed Isaac; 
" I am old, and poor, and helpless. It were unworthy to 
triumph over me — It is a poor deed to crush a worm." 

" Old thou mayest be," replied the knight ; " more 
shame to their folly who have suffered thee to grow gray 
in usury and knavery — Feeble thou mayest be, for \»^hen 
had a Jew either heart or hand? — But rich it i? ;vell 
known thou art." 

"I swear to you, noble knight," said the Jew, "by 
all which I believe, and by all which we believe in 
common " 

" Perjure not thyself," said the Norman, interrupting 



316 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

him, " and let not thine obstinacy seal thy doom, until 
thou hast seen and well considered the fate that awaits 
thee. Think not I speak to thee only to excite thy 
terror, and practise on the base cowardice thou hiast 
derived from thy tribe. I swear to thee by that which 
thou dost NOT believe, by the gospel which our church 
teaches, and by the keys which are given her to bind and 
to loose, that my purpose is deep and peremptory. This 
dungeon is no place for trifling. Prisoners ten thousand 
times more distinguished than thou have died within 
these walls, and their fate hath never been known ! But 
for thee is reserved a long and lingering death, to which 
theirs were luxury." 

He again made a signal for the slaves to approach, and 
spoke to them apart, in their own language ; for he also 
had been in Palestine, where, perhaps, he had learnt his 
lesson of cruelty. The Saracens produced from their 
baskets a quantity of charcoal, a pair of bellows, and a 
fiask of oil. While the one struck a light with a flint 
and steel, the other disposed the charcoal in the large 
rusty grate which we have already mentioned, and exer- 
cised the bellows until the fuel came to a red glow. 

" Seest thou, Isaac," said Front-de-Boeuf, " the range 
of iron bars above that glowing charcoal?* — on that 



* This horrid species of torture may remind the reader of that to 
which the Spaniards subjected Guatimozin, in order to extort a dis- 
covery of his concealed wealth. But, in fact, an instance of similar 
barbarity is to be found nearer home, and occurs in the annals of 
Queen Mary's time, containing so many other examples of atrocity. 
Every reader must recollect, that, after the fall of the Catholic 
Church, and the Presbyterian Church Government had been estab- 
lished by law, the rank, and especially the wealth, of the Bishops, 
Abbots, Priors, and so forth, were no longer vested in ecclesiastics, 
but in lay impropriators of the church revenues, or, as the Scottish 



IVANHOE. 317 

warm couch thou shalt lie, stripped of thj clothes as if 
thou wert to rest on a bed of down. One of these slaves 
shall maintain the fire beneath thee, while the other shall 
anoint thy wretched limbs with oil, lest the roast should 

lawyers called them, titulars of the temporalities of the bocef C9 
though having no claim to the spiritual character of their predecessors 
in office. 

Of these laymen, who were thus invested with ecclesiastical reve- 
nues, some were men of high birth and rank, like the famous Lord 
James Stewart, the Prior of St. Andrews, who did not fail to keep 
for their own use the rents, lands, and revenues of the church. But 
if, on the other hand, the titulars were men of inferior importance, 
who had been inducted into the office by the interest of some power- 
ful person, it was generally understood that the new Abbot should 
grant for his patron's benefit such leases and conveyances of the 
Church lands and tithes as might afford their protector the lion's share 
of the booty. This was the origin of those who were wittily termed 
Tulchan * Bishops, being a sort of imaginary prelate, whose image 
was set up to enable his patron and principal to plunder the benefice 
under his name. 

There were other cases, however, in which men who had got grants 
of these secularized benefices, were desirous of retaining them for 
their own use, without having the influence sufficient to establish 
their purpose ; and these became frequently unable to protect them- 
selves, however unwilling to submit to the exactions of the feudal 
tyrant of the district. 

Bannatyne, secretary to John Knox, recounts a singular course of 
oppression practised on one of those titular abbots, by the Earl of 
Cassilis in Ayrshire, whose extent of feudal influence was so wide 
that he Was usually termed the King of Carrick. We give the fact as 
it occurs in Bannatyne's Journal, only premising that the Journalist 
held his master's opinions, both with respect to the Earl of Cassilis as 
an opposer of the king's party, and as being a detester of the practice 
of granting church revenues to titulars, instead of their being devoted 
to pious uses, such as the support of the clergy, expense of schools, 
and the relief of the national poor. He mingles in the narrative, 

■* A Tulchan is a calf s skin stuffed, and placed before a cow who has lost its 
calf, to induce the animal to part with her milk. The resemblance between 
Buch a Tulchan and a Bishop named to transmit the temporalities of a benefice 
ko some powerful patron, is easily understood. 



318 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

burn. — Now choose betwixt such a scorching bed and 
the payment of a thousand pounds of silver ; for, by the 
head of my father, thou hast no other option." 

" It is impossible," exclaimed the miserable Jew — " it 

therefore, a well-deserved feeling of execration against the tyrant who 
emplcyed the torture, with a tone of ridicule towards the patient, as 
if, after all, it had not been ill bestowed on such an equivocal and 
amphibious character as a titular abbot. He entitles his narrative, 

The Earl op Cassilis' Tyranny against a quick (i. c. living) 

MAN. 

" Master Allan Stewart, friend to Captain James Stewart of Cardo- 
nall, by means of the Queen's corrupted court, obtained the abbey of 
CroBsraguel. The said Earl thinking himself greater than any king in 
those quarters, determined to have that whole benefice (as he hath 
divers others) to pay at his pleasure; and because he could not find 
sic security as his insatiable appetite required, this shift was devised: 
The said Mr. Allan, being in company with the Laird of Bargany, 
(also a Kennedy,) was, by the Earl and his friends, enticed to leave 
the safeguard which he had with the Laird, and come to make good 
cheer with the said Earl. The simplicity of the imprudent man was 
suddenly abused ; and so he passed his time with them certain days, 
which he did in Maybole with Thomas Kennedie, uncle to the said 
Earl ; after which the said Mr. Allan passed, with quiet company, to 
visit the place and bounds of Crossraguel, [his abbacy,] of which the 
said Earl being surely advertised, determined to put in practice the 
tyranny which long before he had conceived. And so, as king of the 
country, apprehended the said Mr. Allan, and carried him to the 
house of Der.ure, where for a season he was honourably treated, (gif a 
prisoner can think any entertainment pleasing;) but, after that certain 
days were sp mt, and that the Earl could not obtain the feus of Cross- 
raguel according to his awin appetite, he determined to prove gif a 
collation could work that which neither dinner nor supper could do 
for a long time. And so the said ^Ir. Allan was carried to a secret 
chamber: with him passed the honourable Earl, his worshipful brother, 
and such as were appointed to be servants at that banquet. In the 
chamber there was a grit iron chimlay, under it a fire; other grit 
provision was not seen. The first course was, — ' My Lord Abbot,* 
(said the Earl,; * it will please you confess here, that with your own 
consent you remain in my company, because you durst not conomit 



IVANHOE. 319 

is impossible that your purpose can be real ! The good 
God of nature never made a heart capable of exercising 
guch cruelty ! " 

" Trust not to that, Isaac," said Front-de-Boeuf, " it 



yourself to the hands of others.* The Abbot answered, * Would youj 

my lord, that I should make a manifest lie for your pleasure? The 
truth is, my lord, it is against my will that I am here ; neither yet 
have I any pleasure in your company.' *I>ut ye shall remain with 
me, nevertheless, at this time,' said the Earl. * I am not able to resist 
your will and pleasure,' said the Abbot, * in this place.' * Ye must 
then obey me,' said the Earl, — and with that were presented unto 
him certain letters to subscribe, amongst whicii there was a five 
years' tack, and a nineteen years' tack, and a charter of feu of ail 
the lands of Crossraguel, with all the clauses necessary for the Earl to 
hasten him to hell, ^or gif adultery, sacrilege, oppression, barbarous 
cruelty, and theft heaped upon theft, deserve hell, the great King of 
Carrick can no more escape hell for ever, than the imprudent Abbot 
escaped the fire for a season as follows. 

" After that the Earl spied repugnance, and saw that he could not 
come to his purpose by fair means, he commanded his cooks to pre- 
pare the banquet; and so first they flayed the sheep, that is, they took 
off the Abbot's cloathes even to his skin, and next they bound him to 
the chimney — his legs to the one end and his arms to the other; and 
so they began to beet [i. e., feed] the fire sometimes to his buttocks, 
sometimes to his legs, sometimes to his shoulders and arms ; and that 
the roast might not bum, but that it might rest in soppe, they spared 
not flambing with oil, (basting as a cook bastes roasted meat;) Lord 
look thou to sic cruelty I And that the crying of the miserable man 
should not be heard, they closed his mouth that the voice might be 
stopped. It may be suspected that some partisan of the King's [Dam- 
ley's] murder was there. In that torment they held the poor man, 
till that often he cried for God's sake to despatch him; for he had as 
meikle gold in his awin purse as would buy powder enough to shorten 
his pain. The famous King of Carrick and his cooks perceiving the 
roast to be aneuch, commanded it to be tane fra the fire, and the Eari 
himself began the grace in this manner: — * Benediclte^ Jesus Maria^yoxx 
are the most obstinate man that ever I saw : gif I had known that ye 
had been so stubborn, I would not for a thousand crowns have handled 
you so, I never did so to man before you.' And yet he retmned to 
the same practice within two days, and ceased not till that he obtained 



320 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

were a fatal error. Dost thou think that I, who have 
seen a town sacked, in which thousands of mj Christian 
countrymen perished by sword, by flood, and by fire, will 
blench from my purpose for the outcries or screams of 

bis foremost purpose, that is, that he had got all his pieces subscryvit 
alsweill as ane half-roasted hand could do it. The Earl thinking him- 
self sure enough so long as he had the half-roasted Abbot in his awin 
keeping, and yet being ashamed of his presence by reason of his for- 
mer cruelty, left the place of D enure "in the hands of certain of his 
servants, and the half roasted Abbot to be kept there as prisoner. 
The Laird of Bargany, out of whose company the said Abbot had been 
enticed, understanding, (not the extremity,) but the retaining of the 
man, sent to the court, and raised letters of deliverance of the person 
of the man according to the order, which being disobeyed, the said 
Earl for his contempt was denounced rebel, and put to the home. 
But yet hope was there none, neither to the afflicted to be delivered, 
neither yet to the purchaser [i, e., procurer] of the letters to obtain 
any comfort thereby ; for in that time God was despised, and the law- 
ful authority was contemned in Scotland, in hope of the sudden 
return and regiment of that cruel murderer of her awin husband, of 
whose lords the said Earl was called one ; and yet, oftener than once, 
he was solemnly sworn to the King and to his Kegent." 

The Journalist then recites the complaint of the injured Allan Stew- 
art, Commendator of Crossraguel, to the Kegent and Privy Council, 
averring his having been carried, partly by flattery, partly by force, 
to the black vault of Denure, a strong fortalice, built on a rock, over- 
hanging the Irish channel, where its ruins are still visible. Here he 
stated he liad been required to execute leases and conveyances of the 
whole churches and parsonages belonging to the Abbey of Crossra- 
guel, which he utterly refused as an um'easonable demand, and the 
more so that he had already conveyed them to John Stewart of Car* 
donall,by whose interest he had been made Commendator. The com- 
plainant i>roceeds to state, that he was, after many menaces, stript, 
bound, and his limbs exposed to fire in the manner already described, 
till, compelled by excess of agony, he subscribed the charter and 
leases presented to him, of the contents of which he was totally igno- 
rant. A few days afterwards, being again required to execute a rati- 
fication of these deeds before a notary and witnesses, and refusing to 
do so, he was once more subjected to the same torture, until his agony 
was so excessive that he exclaimed, " Fye on you, why do you not 



IVANHOE. 321 

one single wretched Jew? — or thinkest thou that these 
swarthy slaves, who have neither law, country, nor con- 
science, but their master's will — who use the poison, or 
the stake, or the poniard, or the cord, at his slightest 



strika your whingers into me, or blow me up with a barrel of powder, 
rather tnan torture me thus unmercifully?" upon which the Earl 
commanded Alexander Eichard, one of his attendants, to stop the 
patient's mouth with a napkin, which was done accordingly. Thus 
he was once more compelled to submit to their tyranny. The peti- 
tion concluded with stating, that the Earl, under pretence of the 
deeds thus iniquitously obtained, had taken possession of the whole 
place and living of Crossraguel, and enjoyed the profits thereof for 
three years. 

The doom of the Eegent and Council shows singularly the total 
interruption of justice at this calamitous period, even in the most 
clamant cases of oppression. The Council declined interference with 
the course of the ordinary justice of the county, (which was com- 
pletely under the said Earl of Cassilis' control,) and only enacted, 
that he should forbear molestation of the unfortunate Commendator, 
under the surety of two thousand pounds Scots. The Earl was ap- 
pointed also to keep the peace towards the celebrated George Bucha- 
nan, who had a pension out of the same Abbacy, to a similar extent, 
and under the like penalty. 

The consequences are thus described by the Journalist already 
quoted : — 

" The said Laird of Bargany, perceiving that the ordiner justice 
could neither help the oppressed, nor yet the afilicted, applied his mind 
to the next remedy, and in the end, by his servants, took the house of 
Denure, where the poor Abbot was kept prisoner. The bruit flew fra 
Carrick to Galloway, and so suddenly assembled herd and hyre-mau 
that pertained to the band of the Kennedies ; and so within a few hours 
was the house of Denure environed again. The master of Cassilis was 
the frackast [i. e., the readiest or boldest] and would not stay, but in 
his heat would lay fire to the dungeon, with no small boasting that all 
enemies within the house should die. 

" He was required and admonished by those that were within to be 
more moderate, and not to hazard himself so foolishly. But no admo- 
nition would help, till that the wind of an hacquebute blasted his 
shoulder, and then ceased he from further pursuit in fury. The Laird 
of Bargany had before purchest [obtained] of the authorities letters, 

VOL.. XVII. 21 



322 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

wink — thinkest thou that they will have mercj, who do 
not even understand the language in which it is asked ? — 
Be wise, old man ; discharge thyself of a portion of thy 
superfluous wealth ; repay to the hands of a Christian a 

charging all faithfuU subjects to the King's Majesty, to assirt him 
against that cruel tyrant and manswom traitor, the Earl of Cassills; 
which letters, with his private writings, he published, and shoi'tly 
found sic concurrence of Kyle and Cunynghame with his ether 
friends, that the Carrick company drew back fra the house : and so 
the other approached, furnished the house with more men, delivered 
the said Mr. Allan, and carried him to Ayre, where, publicly at the 
market cross of the said town, he declared how cruelly he was en- 
treated, and how the murdered King suffered not sic torment as he 
did, excepting only he escaped the death ; and, therefore, publicly did 
revoke all things that were done in that extremity, and especially he re- 
voked the subscription of the three writings, to wit, of a fy ve yeir tack 
and nineteen year tack, and of a charter of feu . And so the house 
remained, and remains (till this day, the 7th of February, 1571) in the 
custody of the said Laird of Bargany and of his servants. And so 
cruelty was disappointed of proffeit present, and shall be eternallie 
punished, unless he earnestly repent. And this far for the cruelty 
committed, to give occasion unto others, and to such as hate the mon- 
strous dealing of degenerate nobility, to look more diligently upon 
their behaviours, and to paint them forth unto the world, that they 
themselves may be ashamed of their own beastliness, and that the 
world may be advertised and admonished to abhor, detest, and avoid 
the company of all sic tyrants, who are not worthy of the society of 
men, but ought to be sent suddenly to the devil, with whom they must 
burn without end, for their contempt of God, and cruelty committed 
against his creatures. Let Cassilis and his brother be the first to be 
the example unto others. Amen. Amen." * 

This extract has been somewhat amended or modernized in orthog- 
raphy, to render it more intelligible to the general reader. I hav 3 to 
add, that the Kennedies of Bargany, who interfered in behalf of the 
oppressed Abbot, were themselves a younger branch of the Cassilis 
family, but held different politics, and were powerful enough in this, 
iud other instances, to bid them defiance. 

The ultimate issue of this affair does not appear ; but as the house 

* Bannatyne's Journal 



IVANHOE. 323 

part of what thou hast acquired by the usury thou hast 
practised on those of his religion. Thy cunning may soon 
Bwell out once more thy shrivelled purse, but neither leech 
nor medicine can restore thy scorched hide and flesh wert 
Ihou once stretched on these bars. Tell down thy ransom, 
I say, and rejoice that at such rate thou canst redeem thee 
from a dungeon, the secrets of which few have returned 
to tell. I waste no more words with thee — choose be- 
tween thy dross and thy flesh and blood, and as thou 
choosest, so shall it be." 

" So may Abraham, Jacob, and all the fathers of our 
people assist me," said Isaac, "I cannot make the choice, 
because I have not the means of satisfying your exorbi- 
tant demand ! " 

" Seize him, and strip him, slaves," said the knight ; 
" and let the fathers of his race assist him if they can." 

The assistants, taking their directions more from the 
Baron's eye and his hand than his tongue, once more 
stepped forward, laid hands on the unfortunate Isaac, 
plucked him up from the ground, and, holding him be- 
tween them, waited the hard-hearted Baron's farther 
signal. The unhappy Jew eyed their countenances and 
that of Front-de-Boeuf, in hope of discovering some 
symptoms of relenting ; but that of the Baron exhibited 
the same cold, half-sullen, half-sarcastic smile, which had 
been the prelude to his cruelty ; and the savage eyes of 

of Cassilis are still in possession of the greater part of the feus and 
leases which belonged to Crossraguel Abbey, it is probable the talons 
of the King of CaiTick were strong enough, in those disorderly times, 
vO retain the prey which they had so mercilessly fixed upon. 

I may also add, that it appears, by some papers in my possession, 
that the Officers or Country Keepers on the Border were accustomed 
to torment their prisoners, by binding them to the iron bars of theii 
Ohimneys, to extort confession. 



824 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

the Saracens, rolling gloomily under their dark brows, 
acquiring a yet more sinister expression by the white- 
ness of the circle which surrounds the pupil, evinced 
rather the secret pleasure which they expected from the 
approaching scene, than any reluctance to be its directors 
or agents. The Jew then looked at the glowing furnace, 
over which he was presently to be stretched, and, seeing 
no chance of his tormentor's relenting, his resolution gavo 
way. 

" I will pay," he said, " the thousand pounds of silver 
' — That is," he added, after a moment's pause, " I will 
pay it with the help of my brethren ; for I must beg as 
a mendicant at the door of our synagogue ere I make 
up so unheard of a sum. — When and where must it be 
delivered ? " 

" Here," replied Front-de-Boeuf, " here it must be de- 
livered — weighed it must be — weighed and told down on 
this very dungeon floor. — Thinkest thou I will part with 
thee until thy ransom is secure ? " 

" And what is to be my surety," said the Jew, " that I 
shall be at liberty after this ransom is paid ? " 

" The word of a Norman noble, thou pawnbroking 
slave," answered Front-de-Boeuf; " the faith of a Norman 
nobleman, more pure than the gold and silver of thee and 
all thy tribe." 

" I crave pardon, noble lord," said Isaac, timidly, '* but 
wherefore should I rely wholly on the word of one who 
will trust nothing to mine ? " 

" Because thou canst not help it, Jew," said the knight, 
eternly. . " "Wert thou now in thy treasure-chamber at 
York, and were I craving a loan of thy shekels, it would 
be thine to dictate the time of payment, and the pledge 
of security. This is my treasure-chamber. Here I have 



IVANHOE. 325 

thee at advantage, nor will I again deign to repeat the 
terms on which I grant thee liberty." 

The Jew groaned deeply. — " Grant me," he said, " at 
least with my own liberty, that of 'the companions with 
whom I travel. They scorned me as a Jew, yet they 
pitied my desolation, and because they tarried to aid me 
by the way, a share of my evil hath come upon them ; 
moreover, they may contribute in some sort to my ran- 
som." 

" If thou meanest yonder Saxon churls," said Front- 
de-Boeuf, "their ransom will depend upon other terms 
than thine. IMind thine own concerns, Jew, I warn thee, 
and meddle not with those of others." 

" I am, then," said Isaac, " only to be set at liberty, 
together wdth mine wounded friend ? " 

" Shall I twice recommend it," said Front-de-Boeuf, 
" to a son of Israel, to meddle with his own concerns, 
and leave those of others alone ? — Since thou hast made 
thy choice, it remains but that thou payest down thy ran- 
som, and that at a short day." 

" Yet hear me," said the Jew — " for the sake of that 
very wealth which thou wouldst obtain at the expense of 

thy " Here he stopt short, afraid of irritating the 

savage Norman. But Front-de-Boeuf only laughed, and 
himself filled up the blank at which the Jew had hesi- 
tated. "At the expense of my conscience, thou wouldst 
say, Isaac; speak it out — I tell thee, I am reasonable. I 
can bear the reproaches of a loser, even when that loser 
is a Jew. Thou wert not so patient, Isaac, when thou 
didst invoke justice against Jacques Fitzdotterel, for 
calling thee a usurious blood-sucker, when thy exactions 
bad devoured his patrimony." 

" I swear by the Talmud," said the Jew, " that your 



326 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

valour has been misled in that matter. Fitzdotterel drew 
his poniard upon me in mine own chamber, because I 
craved him for mine own silver. The term of payment 
was due at the Passover." 

" I care not what he did," said Front-de-Boeuf, " the 
question is, when shall I have mine own ? — when shall I 
have the shekels, Isaac ? " 

"Let my daughter Rebecca go forth to York," an- 
swered Isaac, " with your safe-conduct, noble knight, and 

so soon as man and horse can return, the treasure " 

Here he groaned deeply, but added, after the pause of a 
few seconds, — " the treasure shall be told down on this 
very floor." 

" Thy daughter ! " said Front-de-Boeuf, as if surprised, 
— " By heavens, Isaac, I would I had known of this. I 
deemed that yonder black-browed girl had been thy con- 
cubine, and I gave her to be a handmaiden to Sir Brian 
de Bois-Guilbert, after the fashion of patriarchs and 
heroes of the days of old, who set us in these matters a 
wholesome ^xample." 

The yell which Isaac raised at this unfeeling com- 
munication, made the very vault to ring, and astounded 
the two Saracens so much that they let go their hold of 
the Jew. He availed himself of his enlargement to 
throw himself on the pavement, and clasp the knees of 
Front-de-Boeuf. 

" Take all that you have asked," said he, " Sir Knight 
— take ten times more — reduce me to ruin and to beg- 
gary, if thou wilt, — nay, pierce me with thy poniard, broil 
me on that furnace, but spare my daughter, deliver hor 
in safety and honour ! — As thou art born of woman, spare 
the honour of a helpless maiden — She is the image of my 
deceased Rachael, she is the last of six pledges of her 



lYANHOE. 327 

love — ^Will you deprive a widowed husband of his sole 
remaining comfort ? — Will you reduce a father to wish 
that his only living child were laid beside her dead 
mother, in the tomb of our fathers ? " 

" I would," said the Norman, somewhat relenting, 
** that I had known of this before. I thought your race 
bad loved nothing save their money-bags." 

" Think not so vilely of us, Jews though we be," said 
Isaac, eager to improve the moment of apparent sym- 
pathy ; " the hunted fox, the tortured wild-cat loves its 
young — the despised and persecuted race of Abraham 
love their children ! " 

" Be it so," said Front-de-Boeuf ; " I will believe it in 
future, Isaac, for thy very sake — but it aids us not now, 
I cannot help what has happened, or what is to follow ; 
my word is passed to my comrade in arms, nor would I 
break it for ten Jews and Jewesses to boot. Besides, 
why shouldst thou think evil is to come to the girl, even 
if she became Bois-Guilbert's booty ? " 

" There will, there mast ! " exclaimed Isaac, wringing 
his hands in agony ; " when did Templars breathe aught 
but cruelty to men, and dishonour to women ? " 

" Dog of an Infidel," said Front-de-Boeuf, with spark- 
ling eyes, and not sorry, perhaps, to seize a pretext for 
working himself into a passion, " blaspheme not the Holy 
Order of the Temple of Zion, but take thought instead to 
pay me the ransom thou hast promised, or wo betide thy 
Jewish throat ! " 

" Robber and villain ! " said the Jew, retorting the in- 
sults of his oppressor with passion, which, however impo- 
tent, he now found it impossible to bridle, " I will pay 
thee nothing — not one silver penny will I pay thee, 
anless my daughter is delivered to me in safety and 
honour ! " 



328 WAYERLET NOVELS. 

" Art thou in thy senses, Israelite ? " said the Norman, 
sternly — " has thy flesh and blood a charm against heated 
iron and scalding oil ? " 

" I care not ! " said the Jew, rendered desperate by 
paternal affection ; " do thy worst. My daughter is my 
flesh and blood, dearer to me a thousand times than those 
limbs which thy cruelty threatens. No silver will I give 
thee, unless I were to pour it molten down thy avaricious 
throat — no, not a silver penny will I give thee, Nazarene, 
were it to save thee from the deep damnation thy whole 
life has merited. Take my life if thou wilt, and say, the 
Jew, amidst his tortures, knew how to disappoint the 
Christian." 

" We shall see that," said Front-de-Boeuf ; "for by the 
blessed rood, which is the abomination of thy accursed 
tribe, thou shalt feel the extremities of fire and steel !— 
Strip him, slaves, and chain him down upon the bars." 

In spite of the feeble struggles of the old man, the 
Saracens had already torn from him his upper garment, 
and were proceeding totally to disrobe him, when the 
sound of a bugle, twice winded without the castle, pene- 
trated even to the recesses of the dungeon, and imme- 
diately after loud voices were heard calKng for Sir 
Reginald Front-de-Boeuf. Unwilling to be found engaged 
in his hellish occupation, the savage Baron gave the 
slaves a signal to restore Isaac's garment, and, quitting 
the dungeon with his attendants, he left the Jew to thank 
God for his own deliverance, or to lament over his 
daughter's captivity, and probable fate, as his personal or 
parental feelings might prove strongest. 



IVANHOE. 329 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

Nay. if the gentle spirit of moving words 

Can no way change yon to a milder form, 

I'll woo you, like a soldier, at arms' end, 

And love you 'gainst the nature of love, force you. 

Two Gentlemen op Verona. 

The apartment to which the Ladj Rowena had been 
introduced was fitted up with some rude attempts at orna- 
ment and magnificence, and her being placed there might 
be considered as a pecuhar mark of respect not offered 
to the other prisoners. But the wife of Front-de-Boeuf, 
for whom it had been originally furnished, was long dead, 
and decay and neglect had impaired the few ornaments 
with which her taste had adorned it. The tapestry hung 
down from the walls in many places, and in others was 
tarnished and faded under the effects of the sun, or tat- 
tered and decayed by age. Desolate, however, as it was, 
this was the apartment of the castle which had been 
judged most fitting for the accommodation of the Saxon 
heiress ; and here she was left to meditate upon her fate, 
until the actors in this nefarious drama had arranged the 
several parts which each of them was to perform. This 
had been settled in a council held by Front-de-Boeuf, De 
Bracy, and the Templar, in which, after a long and warm 
debate concerning the several advantages which each 
insisted upon deriving from his peculiar share in this 
audacious enterprise, they had at length determined the 
fate of their unhappy prisoners. 



330 WAVERLET NOVELS. 

It was about the hour of noon, therefore, when De 
Bracy, for whose advantage the expedition had been first 
planned, appeared to prosecute his views upon the hand 
and possessions of the Lady Rowena. 

The interval had not entirely been bestowed in holding 
council with his confederates, for De Bracy had found 
leisure to decorate his person with all the foppery of the 
times. His green cassock and vizard were now flung 
aside. His long luxuriant hair was trained to flow in 
quaint tresses down his richly-furred cloak. His beard 
was closely shaved, his doublet reached to the middle of 
bis leg, and the girdle which secured it, and at the same 
time supported his ponderous sword, was embroidered 
and embossed with gold work. We have already noticed 
the extravagant fashion of the shoes at this period, and 
the points of Maurice de Bracy's might have challenged 
the prize of extravagance with the gayest, being turned 
up and twisted like the horns of a ram. Such was the 
dress of a gallant of the period ; and, in the present 
instance, that eflfect was aided by the handsome person 
and good demeanour of the wearer, whose manners par- 
took alike of the grace of a courtier, and the frankness 
of a soldier. 

He saluted Rowena by doffing his velvet bonnet, 
garnished with a golden broach, representing St. Michael 
trampling down the Prince of Evil. With this, he gently 
molioned the lady to a seat ; and, as she still retained 
her standing posture, the knight ungloved his right hand, 
and motioned to conduct her thither. But Rowena 
declined, by her gesture, the proffered compliment, and 
replied, " If I be in the presence of my jailer. Sir 
Knight — nor will circumstances allow me to think other- 
wise — it best becomes his prisoner to remain standing till 
8he learns her doom.'' 



lYANHOE. 331 

" Alas ! fair Eowena," returned De Bracy, " you are 
in presence of your captive, not your jailer ; and it is 
from your fair eyes that De Bracy must receive that 
doom which you fondly expect from him." 

" I know you not, sir," said the lady, drawing herself 
up with all the pride of offended rank and beauty ; " I 
know you not — and the insolent familiarity with which 
you apply to me the jargon of a troubadour, forms no 
apology for the violence of a robber." 

" To thyself, fair maid," answered De Bracy, in his 
former tone — " to thine own charms, be ascribed whatever 
I have done which passed the respect due to her whom 
I have chosen queen of my heart, and loadstar of my 
eyes." 

" I repeat to you. Sir Knight, that I know you not, 
and that no man wearing chain and spurs ought thus to 
intrude himself upon the presence of an unprotected 
lady." 

" That I am unknown to you," said De Bracy, " is 
indeed my misfortune ; yet let me hope that De Brac/s 
name has not been always unspoken, when minstrels or 
heralds have praised deeds of chivalry, whether in the 
lists or in the battle-field." 

" To heralds and to minstrels, then, leave thy praise, 
Sir Knight," replied Rowena, "more suiting for their 
mouths than for thine own ; and tell me which of them 
shall record in song, or in book of tourney, the memorable ^ 
conquest of this night, a conquest obtained over an old 
man, followed by a few timid hinds ; and its booty, an 
unfortunate maiden, transported against her will to the 
castle of a robber ? " 

" You are unjust. Lady Rowena," said the knight, 
biting his lips in some confusion, and speaking in a tone 



332 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

more natural to him than that of afiPected gallantry, which 
he had at first adopted ; " yourself free from passion, you 
can allow no excuse for the frenzy of another, although 
caused by your own beauty." 

" I pray you, Sir Knight," said Eowena, " to cease a 
language so commonly used by strolling minstrels, that it 
becomes not the mouth of knights or nobles. Certes, 
you constrain me to sit down, since you enter upon such 
commonplace terms, of which each vile crowder hath a 
stock that might last from hence to Christmas." 

" Proud damsel," said De Bracy, incensed at finding 
his gallant style procured him nothing but contempt — 
" proud damsel, thou shalt be as proudly encountered. 
Know, then, that I have supported my pretensions to 
your hand in the way that best suited thy character. It 
is meeter for thy humour to be wooed with bow and bill, 
than in set terms, and in courtly language." 

" Courtesy of tongue," said Eowena, " when it is used 
to veil churlishness of deed, is but a knight's girdle around 
the breast of a base clown. I wonder not that the 
restraint appears to gall you — more it were for your 
honour to have retained the dress and language of an 
outlaw, than to veil the deeds of one under an affectation 
of gentle language and demeanour." 

" You counsel well, lady," said the Norman ; " and in 
the bold language which best justifies bold action, I tell 
thee, thou shalt never leave this castle, or thou shalt leave 
It as Maurice de Bracy's wife. I am not wont to be 
baffled in my enterprises, nor needs a Norman noble 
scrupulously to vindicate his conduct to the Saxon maiden 
whom he distinguishes by the offer of his hand. Thou 
ftrt proud, Eowena, and thou art the fitter to be my wife. 
By what other means couldst thou be raised to high 



IVANHOE. 333 

honour and to princely place, saving bj my alliance ? 
How else wouldst thou escape from the mean precincts 
of a country grange, where Saxons herd with the swine 
which form their wealth, to take thy seat, honoured as 
thou shouldst be, and shalt be, amid all in England that 
is distinguished by beauty, or dignified by power ? " 

" Sir Knight," replied Rowena, " the grange which 
you contemn hath been my shelter from infancy ; and, 
trust me, when I leave it — should that day ever arrive— 
it shall be with one who has not learnt to despise the 
dwelling and manners in which I have been brought up." 

" I guess your meaning, lady," said De Bracy, " though 
you may think it lies too obscure for my apprehension. 
But dream not that Richard Cceur de Lion will ever 
resume his throne, far less that Wilfred of Ivanhoe, his 
minion, will ever lead thee to his footstool, to be there 
welcomed as the bride of a favourite. Another suitor 
might feel jealousy while he touched this string : but my 
firm purpose cannot be changed by a passion so childish 
and so hopeless. Ejiow, lady, that this rival is in my 
power, and that it rests but with me to betray the secret 
of his being within the castle to Front- de-Boeuf, whose 
jealousy will be more fatal than mine." 

" Wilfred here ? " said R-owena, in disdain ; " that is 
as true as that Front-de-Boeuf is his rival." 

De Bracy looked at her steadily for an instant. " Wert 
thou really ignorant of this ? " said he ; " didst thou not 
know that Wilfred of Ivanhoe travelled in the litter of 
the Jew ? — a meet conveyance for the crusader, whose 
doughty arm was to conquer the Holy Sepulchre ! " And 
he laughed scornfully. 

" And if he is here," said Rowena, compelling herself 
io a tone of indifference, though trembling with an agony 



334 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

of apprehension which she could not suppress, " in what 
is he the rival of Front-de-Boeuf ? or what has he to fear 
beyond a short imprisonment, and an honourable ransom, 
according to the use of chivalry ? " 

" Rowena," said De Bracy, '' art thou, too, deceived by 
the common error of thy sex, who think there can be no 
rivalry but that respecting their own charms ? Knowest 
thou not there is a jealousy of ambition and of wealth, as 
well as of love ; and that this our host, Front-de-Boeuf, 
will push from his road him who opposes his claim to the 
fair barony of Ivanhoe, as readily, eagerly, and un- 
scrupulously, as if he were preferred to him by some 
blue-eyed damsel ? But smile on my suit, lady, and the 
wounded champion shall have nothing to fear from Front- 
de-Boeuf, whom else thou may est mourn for, as in the 
hands of one who has never shewn compassion." 

" Save him, for the love of Heaven ! " said Rowena, 
her firmness giving way under terror for her lover's im- 
pending fate. 

"I can — I will — it is my purpose," said De Bracy; 
"for when Rowena consents to be the bride of De Bracy, 
who is it shall dare to put forth a violent hand upon her 
kinsman — the son of her guardian — the companion of her 
youth ? But it is thy love must buy his protection. I 
am not romantic fool enough to further the fortune, or 
avert the fate, of one who is likely to be a successful ob- 
stacle between me and my wishes. Use thine influence 
with me in his behalf and he is safe, — refuse to employ 
it, Wilfred dies, and thou thyself art not nearer to free- 
dom." 

"Thy language," answered Rowena, "hath in its in- 
different bluntness something which cannot be reconciled 
with the horrors it seems to express. I believe not that 
thy purpose is so wicked, or thy power so great." 



iVANHOE. *6S5 

" Flatter thyself, then, with that belief," said De Bracy, 
^ until time shall prove it false. Thy lover lies wounded 
in this castle — thy preferred lover. He is a bar betwixt 
Front-de-Boeuf and that which Front-de-Boeuf loves bet- 
ter than either ambition or beauty. What will it cost 
beyond the blow of a poniard, or the thrust of a javelin, 
to silence his opposition for ever ? Nay, were Front-de- 
Boeuf afraid to justify a deed so open, let the leech but 
give his patient a wrong draught — let the chamberlain, 
or the nurse who tends him, but pluck the pillow from 
his head, and Wilfred, in his present condition, is sped 
without the effusion of blood. Cedric also " 

" And Cedric also," said Rowena, repeating his words ; 
" my noble — my generous guardian ! I deserved the evil 
I have encountered, for forgetting his fate even in that 
of his son ! " 

" Cedric's fate also depends upon thy determination," 
said De Bracy ; " and I leave thee to form it." 

Hitherto, Rowena had sustained her part in this trying 
scene with undismayed courage ; but it was because she 
had not considered the danger as serious and imminent. 
Her disposition was naturally that which physiognomists 
consider as proper to fair complexions, mild, timid, and 
gentle ; but it had been tempered, and, as it were, 
hardened by the circumstances of her education. Ac- 
customed to see the will of all, even of Cedric himself 
(sufficiently arbitrary with others,) give way before her 
wishes, she had acquired that sort of courage and self- 
confidence which arises from the habitual and constant 
deference of the circle in which we move. She could 
scarce conceive the possibility of her will being opposed, 
far less that of its being treated with total disregard. 

Her haughtiness and habit of domination was, there- 



336 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

fore, a fictitious character, induced over that which was 
natural to her, and it deserted her when her eyes were 
opened to the extent of her own danger, as well as that 
of her lover and her guardian ; and when she found her 
will, the slightest expression of which was wont to com- 
mand respect and attention, now placed in opposition to 
that of a man of a strong, fierce, and determined mind, 
who possessed the advantage over her, and was resolved 
to use it, she quailed before him. 

After casting her eyes around, as if to look for the aid 
which was nowhere to be found, and after a few broken 
interjections, she raised her hands to heaven, and burst 
into a passion of uncontrolled vexation and sorrow. It 
was impossible to see so beautiful a creature in such 
extremity without feeling for her, and De Bracy was not 
unmoved, though he was yet more embarrassed than 
touched. He had, in truth, gone too far to recede ; and 
yet, in Rowena's present condition, she could not be acted 
on either by arguments or threats. He paced the apart- 
ment to and fro, now vainly exhorting the terrified maiden 
to compose herself, now hesitating concerning his own 
line of conduct. 

If, thought he, I should be moved by the tears and 
sorrow of this disconsolate damsel, what should I reap but 
the loss of those fair hopes for which I have encountered 
so much risk, and the ridicule of Prince John and his 
jovial comrades ? " And yet,^' he said to himself, " I feel 
myself ill framed for the part which I am playing. I 
cannot look on so fair a face while it is disturbed with 
agony, or on those eyes when they are drowned in tears. 
I would she had retained her original haughtiness of dis- 
position, or that I had a larger share of Front-de-Boeuf 's 
thrice-tempered hardness of heart ! " 



IVANHOE. 337 

Agitated by these thoughts, he could only bid the un- 
fortunate Rowena be comforted, and assure her, that as 
yet she had no reason for the excess of despair to which 
she was now giving way. But in this task of consolation 
De Bracy was interrupted by the horn, " hoarse-winded 
blowing far and keen," which had at the same time 
alarmed the other inmates of the castle, and interrupted 
their several plans of avarice and of license. Of them 
all, perhaps, De Bracy least regretted the interruption ; 
for his conference with the Lady Rowena had arrived at 
a point, where he found it equally difficult to prosecute 
or to resign his enterprise. 

And here we cannot but think it necessary to offer some 
better proof than the incidents of an idle tale, to vindi- 
cate the melancholy representation of manners which has 
been just laid before the reader. It is grievous to think 
that those valiant barons, to whose stand against the 
crown the liberties of England were indebted for their 
existence, should themselves have been such dreadful 
oppressors, and capable of excesses contrary not only to 
the laivs of England, but to those of nature and humanity- 
But, alas ! we have only to extract from the industrious 
Henry one of those numerous passages which he has col- 
lected from contemporary historians, to prove that fiction 
itself can hardly reach the dark reality of the horrors of 
the period. 

The description given by the author of the Saxon 
Chronicle of the cruelties exercised in the reign of Eng 
Stephen by the great barons and lords of castles, who 
were all Normans, affords a strong proof of the excesses 
of which they were capable when their passions were 
inflamed. " They grievously oppressed the poor people 
by building castles ; and when they were built, they filled 

VOL. xvn. 22 



338 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 

them with wicked men, or rather devils, who seized both 
men and women who they imagined had any money, 
threw them into prison, and put them to more cruel tor- 
tures than the martyrs ever endured. They suffocated 
some in mud, and suspended others by the feet, or the 
bead, or the thumbs, kindling fires below them. They 
squeezed the heads of some with knotted cords till they 
pierced their brains, while they threw others into dun- 
geons swarming with serpents, snakes, and toads." But 
it would be cruel to put the reader to the pain of perus- 
ing the remainder of this description.* 

As another instance of these bitter fruits of conquest, 
and perhaps the strongest that can be quoted, we may 
mention, that the Princess Matilda, though a daughter of 
the King of Scotland, and afterwards both Queen of 
England, niece to Edgar Atheling, and mother to the 
Empress of Germany, the daughter, the wife, and the 
mother of monarchs, was obliged, during her early resi- 
dence for education in England, to assume the veil of a 
nun, as the only means of escaping the licentious pursuit 
of the Norman nobles. This excuse she stated before a 
great council of the clergy of England, as the sole reason 
for her having taken the religious habit. The assembled 
clergy admitted the vaHdity of the plea, and the notoriety 
of the circumstances upon which it was founded ; giving 
thus an indubitable and most remarkable testimony to the 
existence of that disgraceful license by which that age 
was stained. It was a matter of public knowledge, they 
said, that after the conquest of King William, his Nor- 
man followers, elated by so great a victory, acknowledged 
no law but their own wicked pleasure, and not only de- 
spoiled the conquered Saxons of their lands and their 
* Henry's Hist, edit. 1805, vol. vii. p. 346. 



IVANHOE. 339 

goods, but invaded the honour of their wives and of their 
daughters with the most unbridled hcense ; and hence it 
was then common for matrons and maidens of noble 
families to assume the veil, and take shelter in convents, 
not as called thither hj the vocation of God, but solely to 
preserve their honour from the unbridled wickedness of 
man. 

Such and so licentious were the times, as announced 
by the public declaration of the assembled clergy, 
recorded by Eadmer ; and we need add nothing more to 
vindicate the probability of the scenes which we have 
detailed, and are about to detail, upon the more apoc- 
ryphal authority of the Wardour MS. 




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